


A Human Heart

by andthenshesaid-write (ladyknight1512)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fae & Fairies, Homophobia, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 07:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19998019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyknight1512/pseuds/andthenshesaid-write
Summary: Phil's mother has always said that there are creatures in the forest and Phil has always thought they were just stories. Then one day he runs into the forest looking for somewhere to hide and meets Dan, a man with antlers and the ability to talk to trees. Phil's world opens up but there are dangers in the forest that he can't even begin to imagine.





	A Human Heart

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. It is not intended as a commentary on any real-life experiences or the people who inspired these characters. The title is a quote from 'Fairy Favours', a poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans.
> 
> This work was inspired by the fantastic art by @dansphlevels. Thank you for giving me free rein to run with this idea and tell the story that I wanted to tell. Make sure you check out the art [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/post/186581390443/art-for-a-human-heart-by-andthenshesaid-write). 
> 
> Thank you to @mukbangphillie for betaing. All remaining errors are my own.
> 
> Thanks also to my friend @quicksilvermaid - this isn't even your fandom but you offered a second opinion and let me bounce ideas off you, and cheered me on from start to finish.
> 
> **Pronunciation and helpful notes:**
> 
> This story involves various types of fairies, a fairy world and fairy rules. If you’re familiar with fairy stories, you might recognise some of the common tropes I’ve borrowed from traditional stories. However, I’ve also twisted some things to suit my needs and made other things up.
> 
> Bean-tighe: pronounced _ban-tee_ , this is an Irish fairy that looks like an old woman. Traditionally they are housekeepers and watch over children.
> 
> Kelpie: a Scottish shape-shifter that usually appears as a horse near waterways. They entice travellers onto their backs and drown them.
> 
> Sidhe: pronounced _shee_ , this is a traditional Irish word for fairy. Typically it is used to describe a particular kind of grand and powerful fairy, but I have used it here as the name for a whole species.

There's a young man crashing through the forest loudly enough to wake the dead. Literally. The funniest thing is that he thinks he's being sneaky, as if the trees weren't whispering about him the moment he stepped into them.   
  
Jeers echo through the forest – the man's being chased. Dan could leave it alone; he doesn't usually get involved with mortals … but he's bored.

*** * ***

Phil picks his way over tree roots as carefully and quietly as he can. He’s breathing hard and his lungs are burning from his mad dash into the forest. He thinks he’s lost them, though. Hector’s feet had been pounding behind him for what felt like forever, but now there’s just the rustle of leaves overhead.

He stops at the edge of a small clearing and wipes the back of his hand over his right cheek, grimacing at the smear of blood when he pulls his hand away. He has a vague memory of a branch whipping past his cheek as he ran; he’ll have to think of something to tell Ma when he gets home, or she’ll worry.

It’s the thought of her that suddenly makes Phil’s breath catch. He stills and glances at the trees around him. They’d felt safe before, when his only choices had been the forest and the wide open expanse of the fields surrounding the village. Now all he can remember is the stories his mother told him and his brother when they were children, about people who went into the forest and never came out.

He takes a shallow breath and turns away from the clearing. He doesn’t know how long he was running for, but he thinks he ran in a roughly straight line, so if he just keeps walking forward he’ll find the treeline again.

“Going somewhere?”

Phil’s breath catches again, more painfully this time, because he knows there was no one else around a second ago and he doesn’t recognise that voice from anyone in the village. No one else he knows speaks with this kind of dry amusement, like Phil is the punchline of a joke that hasn’t even been told yet.

He turns back around slowly. There’s a man lounging against a tree on the left side of the clearing, arms folded over his chest. He’s wearing a short-sleeved vest fastened low over his stomach and his feet are bare under his loose trousers. He’d almost look normal, if not for the pair of impressively pronged antlers rooted in his curly brown hair.

“Just home.” Phil waves a casual hand over his shoulder, as if home is just beyond this next row of trees and he’s not talking to a stag-man.

Maybe he’s  _ not _ talking to a stag-man. Maybe he fell and hit his head while he was running. Or better yet, maybe he’s still asleep in his bed and this is all just a dream.

“You’re from the village?”

“You know about the village?”

Stag-man scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t everyone?” He pushes off the tree and straightens. Between his already impressive height and the antlers, he’s almost seven feet tall. “Come on.” He turns and starts walking in the opposite direction as if he just expects Phil to follow him.

“What? No, I need to get home.”

Stag-man glances over his shoulder and shrugs as if he doesn’t care. “If you like, but those men might still be out there, and even if they aren’t, there’s worse than them in these trees. I wouldn’t recommend going alone.” He looks Phil up and down. “I’ll take you to the edge of the forest.”

Phil frowns. Ma’s stories always said there were other creatures living in the forest and that they liked to trick people. The creatures couldn’t be trusted because they didn’t always say what they meant.

But what if Stag-man is right? He doesn’t  _ seem _ dangerous and even if he is, what if Phil runs into something worse trying to find his way back? Either way, Phil has to be careful and make sure the stag-man’s words can’t be misconstrued.

“ _ When _ will we get to the edge of the forest?”

Something gleams in the stag-man’s eyes. “By nightfall. Don’t you want to look around first?”

“Nightfall today?”

Stag-man huffs a reluctant laugh. “Yes. I’ll have you back at the edge of the forest by nightfall today.”

Phil chews his lower lip. He should just go back. But the village is just the village, full of the same people who’ve watched him warily every day of his life. Nothing there ever changes.

“Alright. I guess I can look around for a little while.”

Stag-man smiles and Phil is surprised to see that he has dimples. “Then follow me.”

Phil lingers on the edge of the clearing, as if stepping past the treeline will commit him to something he’s not ready for. But he’s already agreed. He doesn’t think Stag-man would force him to go anywhere, but Phil also doesn’t think Stag-man will escort him to the edge of the forest without a look around first.

Phil takes a deep breath and steps into the clearing. He pauses, glances around, almost expecting some other creature to fly out of nowhere and tackle him to the ground. Stag-man is eyeing him with barely concealed amusement from the other side of the clearing so Phil hurries to his side. 

“Where are you going to take me?” 

Stag-man shrugs. “Around.”

Phil’s lips purse. “Nowhere dangerous.”

Stag-man laughs. “You’re in the forest. Everything here is dangerous.”

Stag-man steps into the trees, Phil close on his heels. The air is cooler here than it was even on just the other side of the clearing, but Phil’s not sure if that’s something about the stag-man, or if the temperature actually dropped, or if it’s just his overactive imagination. 

“Do you have a name?” Phil asks, because he can’t stand the silence and because he can’t keep calling him “Stag-man”.

“Not one you could pronounce. You can call me Dan. And you are…?”

“You don’t know?”

The look Stag-man – Dan – gives him is extremely unimpressed. “I can’t read minds.”

Phil grumbles. “Well how was I supposed to know that Mister I-Just-Appear-Out-Of-Nowhere?”

Dan’s mouth quirks into a smile, so suddenly there and gone that Phil thinks he never meant to show it.

“I’m Phil. It’s nice to meet you.”

“So polite.”

Phil shrugs. “My mother raised me right.”

“Is she your only family?”

Phil eyes him. He has no real reason to trust Dan, as much as he’s inclined to. That’s just his nature, though. Ma always says that he made friends with anyone and anything as a child. Telling Dan about his family probably won’t put him in any more danger than he’s already in – it might even keep him safe. If Dan knows there are people at home waiting for him, maybe he’ll be more likely to take Phil back to the edge of the forest like he said he would.   


“No,” Phil says. “It’s me, my parents and my older brother Martyn. Do you have a family?”

“Parents, a brother. They’re around somewhere.” Dan gestures vaguely at the trees. “We don’t put much stock in familial ties.”

Phil nods like he understands. He doesn’t. His whole village is built on familial ties. The thought of not knowing where his family is or how they’re doing opens a pit in his stomach. He looks around to distract himself, but the trees look the same as they always have: rough bark so dark it’s almost black, moody grey leaves, trunks close and tightly packed. The ground under his feet is soft and damp, and the air is heavy with the smell of wet and rotting leaves.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Phil says. “Everything looks the same.”

“Of course I do, and everything  _ would _ look the same to you.”

Phil huffs. “There’s no need to be rude.”

“I’m not being rude, just honest.”

They step out from behind a tree and Phil pulls up short at the sight of a little stream.

Dan perches himself on the edge of a rock. “You looked tired and hot. I thought you might like some water.”

Where does this stream even come from? Phil’s never seen a stream leading into or coming out of the forest at all. Sure, the forest is large and he hasn’t journeyed around all of it, but they can’t have walked that far. He’s pretty sure the village is still relatively close by. Surely he would have known the stream was here? 

“Ma always says not to eat or drink anything in the forest.”   
  
Dan studies his face closely. “Does she? She probably always says not to come into the forest at all, but you've already broken that rule.”   
  
That was true – Ma did always say that. “Those guys were going to beat me up. I didn't have a choice.”   
  
“There's always a choice, Phil.”

“You didn’t give me much of one!”

“Sure I did. You could have turned around and gone home. I just told you that there was a risk involved. If anything, I was trying to help you.”

Phil frowns. There’s danger here. Not with Dan or in his words exactly, but in the meaning behind them. Dan could easily twist Phil around so that he’s not sure which way is up, and something in Phil knows that he wouldn’t even realise Dan was doing it.

“Is the water safe for me to drink?”

“Yes.”

He strains his mind, trying to remember everything Ma ever told him about the creatures who live in the forest. “Are you able to lie?”

Dan gets that gleam in his eye again. He looks vaguely impressed by Phil’s caution. “No.”

“... You might be lying now.”

Dan shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest. “I might be, but how would you know?”

Phil rubs at his temples in an attempt to ease the throbbing building there. A part of him wishes he’d just turned around and gone home, risked running into Hector and his friends again and whatever else the forest had in store. But despite the acrobatics his mind is trying to perform to outthink Dan, Phil’s intrigued by him as well. All Ma’s stories are true! For so long he’d dismissed them as cautionary tales meant to keep his younger self from wandering too far away, as he was sometimes prone to doing when he got caught up in his own little world. But here is Dan, who can apparently just appear out of thin air and has antlers growing out of his head.

Dan sighs. “I’m not lying. The water is safe for you because it’s from a natural source. I wouldn’t recommend eating or drinking anything one of the Sidhe offers you with their own hand. You might experience some nasty side effects. Drink if you want, and then I’ll take you to the edge of the forest.”

“Is that what you are? One of the Sidhe?”

“Generally speaking.”

Phil eyes the stream and can almost feel his mouth getting dryer with every second that he stares at the rippling water. Ma said that the creatures in the forest, the Sidhe, couldn’t lie, and she hasn’t been wrong yet. Plus, there’s something in Phil’s gut that says Dan is telling the truth, that the stream is safe to drink from, and his gut is almost never wrong.

He takes a cautious step towards the stream and crouches down. His fingers sink into the mud when he reaches down to steady himself. The water is so clear that he can see his face in it, and he uses a handful to wash away the worst of the dirt and sweat that had stuck to him when he was running. The cut on his cheek stings when the water runs over it. He drinks the water from his cupped hands and gasps at how cold it is, but he drinks another handful to ease his parched throat.

When he stands and steps away from the stream, Dan is still sitting on his rock, watching him.

“Ready to go?”

Phil nods and Dan stands, giving the rock a gentle pat before he leads Phil back into the trees.

“What was that about?” Phil asks. “The thing with the rock.”

“Just thanking it for its time and service. It’s the polite thing to do, Phil. I thought your mother would have taught you that.”

Phil has never liked being made fun of, but Dan’s gentle mocking feels different from what he gets from the other villagers, almost like Dan is part of the joke as well. It’s not something Phil’s used to.

Maybe Dan takes them by a shortcut, but it doesn’t seem to take as long to get to the edge of the forest as it had done to get to the stream. The forest remains dense around them as they walk, so it takes Phil by surprise when they step past a tree and he has to blink against the fading light of day. In the distance, across the grassy fields, already dying in preparation for winter, the cooking fires from the village houses burn bright like beacons.

Phil groans. “It’s sunset!” Ma will be so worried. “You said you’d have me home by now!”

“I said I’d bring you back to the edge of the forest by nightfall, which I have done. I trust you can find your way from here.”

There’s no point arguing about it – Dan probably did say that and he didn’t know that Phil had told his mother that he’d be home to help her in the afternoon.

“I can.” He hesitates and then says, “Thank you.”

Dan arches an eyebrow. “I didn’t do anything. You don’t owe me your thanks.”

Phil shrugs. “It’s the polite thing to do.”

He sets off across the field at a light jog. He only glances back at the forest once, but when he does Dan is already gone.

*** * ***

When he gets home, Phil eases the door open and slides in sideways. He doesn’t know what he’s trying to achieve by being sneaky – their house isn’t the smallest in the village, but it isn’t the largest either and the table is right there in the front room. His parents and Martyn all look up as soon as the door opens.

“Where have you been?” Ma’s lips are pursed and her hands are red from where she’s been wringing them.

Phil shrugs, because there’s no way he can tell her that he went into the forest. “Out. Sorry. I meant to be home earlier. I lost track of time.”

“How could you not notice the sun going down?” Martyn lifts a spoonful of stew to his mouth and chews slowly. “Did you fall asleep somewhere?”

Phil bristles. “No!”

“And why are you so dirty?” Ma lifts a hand to the cut on his cheek but Phil shuffles away. “What happened to your face?”

“Nothing. I fell down.” He ladles some stew into a bowl and sits opposite Martyn at the table.

“You should be more careful,” Pa says, “and you should take more care with your time-keeping. Your mother was worried.”

Phil nods and bends his head low over the bowl to eat. His parents and Martyn talk amongst themselves about what went on in the village that day, and about how the girl a few houses up is already pregnant, even though she’s only been married a couple of months. It’s the sort of end-of-day gossip that Phil’s never liked, because he’s never had anything to add. He doesn’t know why everyone gets so caught up in everyone else’s business when it’s the same thing day-in and day-out.

After dinner, Phil shrugs into a coat and goes to sit in the vegetable garden behind the house. It doesn’t take long for Martyn to follow him out.

“Better not let Ma see you out here.” Martyn nudges Phil in the ribs until he slides further down the bench to make room for him. “She’s half-convinced there’s some kind of curse on you, the way plants die when you’re around.”

Phil rolls his eyes. “If you stopped bringing it up, maybe she’d stop believing it.”

They sit in silence for a little while, listening to the sounds from the houses nearby. The stars are bright right now, but there are clouds rolling in from the hills, promising rain.

“What really happened to you today?” Martyn says.

“I told you. I lost track of time.”

“And you fell down.”

Phil nods.

“Were Hector and his lot after you again?”

Phil chews the inside of his cheek. “Why does it matter?”

“It matters because I’m your older brother. It’s my job to look out for you.”

“I’m eighteen years old! You have to let me fight my own battles sometimes!”

“That’s the thing, though – you don’t fight, you just run away. And I don’t blame you; I don’t want to see you get hurt, and you know it would break Ma’s heart if something happened to you, but you can’t just let him chase you around like you’re both still children.”

“He’ll get tired of it eventually. He’ll take on more duties for his father. He’ll marry. He won’t have time for me if I can just wait him out.”

“That’s just letting him win!”

“Better to avoid him and let him win than to get beaten to a pulp and literally run out of the village.” Phil heaves a sigh and shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Fine.”

It’s not the sort of “fine” that people use when they actually mean to let something drop; Martyn’s just gearing up to come at this from another direction. If Phil doesn’t want to keep having this fight he needs a distraction, but there’s only one thing that will keep Martyn off his back for now. Plus, he doesn’t know how long he can keep his whereabouts today a secret. He can already feel the words pressing at the back of his lips, trying to get out.

“I went into the forest.”

Martyn goes completely still. “What?”

“I wanted somewhere to hide and they were running me out into the fields. The forest was my only option.”

“But Ma always says–”

Phil sighs. “I know what Ma always says. Believe me, I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon.”

Martyn swallows and eyes him up and down. Phil can tell that he’s wary but curious.

“What was it like?”

Phil needs to make sure that nothing he says will make Martyn want to go into the forest. He didn’t see anyone except Dan while he was there, but he believes that Dan was telling the truth about the forest being dangerous. It was something in the air and the quiet. He definitely can’t tell Martyn about Dan – he’ll either think he’s crazy or making it up. Plus, there’s something in him that wants to keep Dan all to himself. He’s never been a possessive person, and he always shared his toys as a child, but there’s a warm feeling that spreads through him when he thinks about how he got to spend even just an hour with someone who didn’t edge away like he was contagious and smiled when he spoke. He doesn’t want Martyn to have any part of that.

“I didn’t go far,” Phil eventually says, “so I didn’t see much. But it was cold and everything was damp. The trees grow really close together and they all look the same. I think Ma’s stories were right about people going in and not coming out, but I think they probably just got lost or fell down a hill and broke their necks, instead of getting eaten or captured or whatever else she used to tell us.”

Martyn nods and breathes out a small sigh of relief. “Right. Still, it’s probably better if you stay out of there from now on. We don’t want  _ you _ getting lost, Phil.”

“I know. Don’t worry. I won’t go in again.”

It’s not a lie. As much as Phil likes the idea of having someone like Dan, he knows he can’t have Dan in particular. Dan might have been true to his word, not hurt him, showed him water and the way out of the forest, but Phil got lucky. He could have easily crossed paths with someone far more sinister and ended up like all those people in Ma’s stories. Phil means what he says: he won’t go into the forest again.

*** * ***

Dan’s lying back on a branch high above the ground, one leg dangling over the side and swinging gently. His eyes are closed and he’s just on the verge of sleep when there’s a fluttering around his right ear and a giggle. Dan sighs and keeps his eyes closed, hoping she’ll take the hint and leave him to his nap. He feels her settle in the centre of his chest and knows it’s a lost cause.

“I know you’re awake.”

He sighs again, deeper this time, and opens his eyes. He cranes his neck and sees her sitting in the dip of his sternum, legs pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them.

“What do you want, Trina?”

Dan wouldn’t call her his best friend; she’s just the friend he spends more time with than anyone else, and even that’s mostly because she keeps seeking him out, rather than the other way around. Trina’s a pixie and only stands as high as the length of his hand from wrist to fingertip. Pixies are a giggly, nosy, volatile bunch, but Trina’s not so bad on her own.

She wriggles her bare toes and Dan only just stops himself rubbing away the tickle – he did that once by accident and knocked her clear off his chest.

“I was watching you today.” Trina speaks in a sing-song and her lips spread in a cheeky smile.

“My commune with the trees must have made your day.”

She rolls her eyes and slaps at him, which feels about the same as an insect landing on him. “I’m talking about that human! Finn!”

“Phil.”

She waves a careless hand. “Whatever. He was a good catch! When’s he coming back?”

Dan shrugs and enjoys the way the bark scratches his back through his vest. “Never, if he’s got any sense. He seemed pretty clued in, asked really specific questions – I think someone must have told him about us. His mother, from what he was saying.”

Trina frowns. “But what did you give him?”

Dan wishes he could play dumb, but he’s been around a long time and he knows she’s talking about the Lure, the token the Sidhe give to humans to draw them back into their web, and she knows that he knows.

“Nothing.”

“NOTHING?!”

Trina’s hilarious when she gets mad. Her face goes red all the way up to her delicately pointed ears, and she clenches her hands and stomps her feet. In someone human-sized, it might be melodramatic, but on Trina it’s just cute.

“Dan! You have a duty!”

“It’s the same duty everyone else has. So what if I let one human go?”

“Humans don’t just wander into the forest every day. That might have been the last one we see for years!”

“You’re overreacting. There’s always someone stupid enough to come in, get lost and accept the helping hand of a conveniently-located stranger.”

Trina’s lips purse. “And what if the queen finds out you let him go?”

“She’s got more interesting things to do than watch my every move. She won’t find out.” Dan eyes her suspiciously. “Unless you tell her. But you wouldn’t do that, would you, Trina?”

Her weight shifts from her left foot to her right and back again, but ultimately she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “You have to promise me that the next time a human comes along, you’ll do things properly and give them a Lure.”

“Yeah, yeah. I promise.” Dan settles back on the branch and closes his eyes. The Sidhe take promises seriously, but pixies take them more seriously than most, but it doesn’t matter. Phil isn’t stupid enough to come back. “Now go bother someone else. I’m sleeping.”

*** * ***

Phil’s baking – that’s how he knows he’s dreaming. Ma almost never lets him into the kitchen when she’s baking because, as much as he wants to help, he’s about as useless as a bear when he tries.

He’s at the kitchen bench, light streaming in through the window, his hands are covered in flour and he’s kneading the dough that will eventually become a crusty loaf of bread. From the corner of his eye, he sees a shadow pass by the window, but when he looks up there’s nothing there except for the same field of wildflowers he’s been looking out at every day of his life. He returns his attention to the bread but a moment later there’s a knock at the door. When he turns to open it, Dan’s already sitting in a chair at the table.

“What are you doing here?” Phil picks bits of dough off his fingers like Dan being in his house is an everyday occurrence.

Dan shrugs and props his chin in his palm. “Just wanted to see what you were up to. Is that bread? Can I have some?”

“It won’t be ready for hours.”

“You can tell me about your day while we wait.”

There’s a thumping coming from somewhere in the house but Phil’s dream-self knows they’re alone.

“You should probably tell him to be quieter,” Dan says. “He’ll wake the whole house with that racket.”

“But we’re the only ones here.”

Dan’s head tilts to the right. “Are you sure?”

The thumping comes again and Phil blinks, but when he opens his eyes he’s in the dark of his bedroom and the thumping is coming from the other side of the partition that separates his side of the room from Martyn’s. Phil grumbles, rolls over to shove the partition aside and glares at Martyn, who’s sitting on his bed, a boot in hand. There are flakes of dry mud on the floor around his feet.

“What are you doing?” Phil asks, rubbing his eyes against the dawn light peeking into the room.

“There’s mud on my boots,” Martyn says, like he’s not really listening. “I’m trying to knock it off.”

“And you thought our bedroom at the crack of dawn was the right time and place for this?”

Martyn shrugs and tugs his boots onto his feet. “Woke you up early for once, didn’t I? Maybe you’ll get out of the house before noon for a change. See you later.”

Phil groans and flops back onto his bed as the door shuts behind Martyn. Why is everyone so excited to get up with the sun? Sure, there are more daylight hours to get things done, but doesn’t everyone prefer sleep? If the whole village agrees to only work from midday until sunset, they’ll all be in the same situation and no one will lose any money!

He yawns and can’t stop his mind drifting back to his dream: Dan in his house, just lounging around like he and Phil are friends. It’s the third dream he’s had like this in the last five days and it’s making Phil’s stomach roll. What if Dan did something to him? Cast a spell on him or something? Maybe he only let Phil go because he knew that he’d come back and when he did, Dan would be lying in wait with a horde of Sidhe warriors ready to capture Phil and eat him.

Phil grimaces and rubs a hand over his face. That seems unlikely, even for his overactive imagination. Still, he’s never had recurring dreams before and he almost never remembers anything that he dreams about. If Dan  _ did _ do something to him, Phil wants to know about it, horde of Sidhe warriors or not.

Phil throws his blankets off and shivers in the cold morning air. He hurries to dress and then trudges into the main room of the house, where his mother is drinking a cup of tea and studying the bolts of fabric on her workbench – she’s dressmaker, a good one. Most of the village women buy their best dresses from Ma, or have her adjust or fix their existing garments, even though they think she’s a bit strange with her fairy tales and superstitions. Phil usually helps her make the buttons and other details, and always goes with her to the nearby towns and cities, where she sells her dresses to the rich women who live there.

Ma’s eyebrows rise almost to her hairline when she sees Phil. “You’re up early!”

Phil shrugs. “Martyn woke me and he left dry mud all over our floor.”

Ma sighs and shakes her head. “I’ll make him clean it, don’t you worry. Have some breakfast and we can make an early start.”

Phil chews his bottom lip. “Actually, there’s something I need to do first. I’ll probably only be a couple of hours and then I’ll be back to help.”

Ma looks around the room, as if the reason for Phil’s errand might be written on a wall. He can’t blame her. He doesn’t have any friends and there’s nothing else for him to be doing at this hour.

“Well … alright.” She nods slowly. “Be careful and make sure you’re back by lunch. I need you to lace all these pearls – my eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

“I know.” He drops a quick kiss on her cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

There are already people out and about, heading to see the baker and wandering around the vegetable stalls, and there’s a group of men in the fields, continuing their work preparing for winter. Phil squints at them as he starts down the path that will take him out of the village and towards the forest, but no one seems to be paying him any attention.

The forest looms large even from a distance. It’s like a wall of trees had just been stuck into the ground, and it seems like it stretches on forever, even though Phil knows that it doesn’t. The air is noticeably cooler the closer he gets to the edge of the forest; he hadn’t noticed it last time, but he’d been running and worried about finding a place to hide. This time, he pulls his coat tighter around him and shoves his hands into his armpits to keep them warm.

He hesitates when he reaches the treeline, peering between the trunks into the darkness beyond. He can’t see or hear anything, as if his senses have been deadened to anything within the forest’s borders. He almost turns back to the village but then he remembers his dreams. Nothing bad ever happens in them, they’re never sinister or threatening, but they’re out of character and they feel so real and normal when Phil is in them. If there’s something going on, he wants to know about it, even if just to ease his own curiosity. If he  _ is _ the target of some Sidhe spell, it’s the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to him and, although he knows he should be careful, he wants to know what the spell is and what’s going to happen to him. And he should probably tell Dan to take the spell off too, just in case it has any of those side effects Dan had told him about by the stream.

Phil takes a steely breath and enters the forest. He isn’t sure how he’s going to find Dan, but he thinks he entered at roughly the same point that he had last time, so if he just walks in a straight line, hopefully he’ll reach the clearing and Dan will just find him again.

The branches seem to reach out and cling to him as he walks, catching on his coat and winding through his hair. At first he tries to pull away from them, but that just makes them tug harder. It’s easier to pass through when he gently brushes them off, so he fixes a non-threatening smile to his face and steps carefully over their roots, instead of stepping directly onto them as he might have done with any other tree.

He doesn’t know how long he walks for, because there’s no way he can see the sun or the sky through the knotted canopy, but Phil’s sure he should have reached the clearing by now. His breath catches tight in his chest at the thought that he might be lost – hadn’t he promised Martyn that he wouldn’t come into the forest again, to prevent this from happening? Phil stops between two trees and shivers when he feels a branch brush against the back of his hand.

“Dan?” he whispers into the darkness, hoping that somehow Dan will hear his name, even if he’s across the forest. “Dan, are you there?”

A breeze rustles the leaves of the trees and when Phil exhales, his breath blooms in the air in front of his face. This was a mistake. He should never have come back into the forest. Why can’t he just leave things alone? The dreams aren’t hurting him. Even if he’d dreams about Dan every night for the rest of his life, that would be better than getting lost and dying of cold in the middle of this place.

“Looking for me?”

Phil shrieks and jumps, backing into a tree trunk, before he looks up for the source of the voice. Dan’s sitting on a branch above his head, swinging his legs and as calm as anyone Phil’s ever seen.

“Have you been there the whole time?” Phil asks, a hand pressed to his heart. There’s something reassuring about feeling it return to its normal beat. “Or have you been following me?”

Dan shakes his head. “I heard you were looking for me and came to see what you want.”

“Heard from who?”

Dan spreads his arms out, encompassing all the trees around them. “The trees like to gossip. They like you, by the way, but maybe too much.” He points towards Phil’s left, where a branch has wound around his arm and holds him to the trunk.

“Sorry,” Phil says to the tree, pulling his arm out of the branch’s hold. “I need that.”

Dan drops off his branch and lands lightly on his feet. “So what are you doing here?”

The way he says it, as if Phil coming back into the forest is completely ridiculous, makes a sudden burst of outrage burn in him. “I should be asking you that!”

Dan glances around and then tilts his head. “… I live here.”

“What? No! I mean, I should be asking the questions!”   
  
“Go on then.” He sounds amused, as if this is all a joke to him.   
  
“What did you do to me?”   
  
“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything to you.”   
  
“You must have! What about the dreams?”   
  
Dan frowns. “Dreams aren't really my area.”   
  
“But I’ve been having dreams about you!”   
  
A slow smirk spreads across Dan’s face. “You’re dreaming about me? Phil. I didn’t know you felt that way. I’m flattered.”

Phil’s face warms with a flush. He realises how it sounds now that he’s said it out loud. “Not– not like that.”   
  
Dan chuckles. “If you say so.”

“I do say so! And don’t laugh! I’m being serious!”

“So am I. I didn’t do anything to you, I swear.”

In a rush, Phil remembers what Dan had told him about not being able to lie, but he also remembers how careful he’d been to make sure Dan was answering the exact questions Phil needed answers to. He takes a breath to calm himself and tries to order his thoughts.

“Are you making me dream about you?” Phil asks. It’s a direct question that he doesn’t think Dan can worm his way around.

“No,” Dan says, that glint in his eye again, “I am not making you dream about me.”

Phil nods, satisfied. “Right. Thanks. Sorry for accusing you like that.”

Dan’s mouth twists, like he’s thinking something through. “What do these dreams entail?”

“Nothing very interesting. Last night we were in my kitchen and I was baking bread. In the first one we were just talking in the garden behind my house. Things like that.”

“I see.”

“Do you?” Phil takes an anxious step towards him. “I never have recurring dreams. Do you know what might be causing them?”

Dan chuckles. “I’m sorry to disappoint you but I think they’re just regular dreams.”

How is he supposed to feel about that? On one hand, he’s glad that Dan or some other creature hasn’t put a spell on him, but on the other, if his dreams are just dreams there’s no one to blame for them except his own mind. Sure, Dan’s interesting – he’s nothing like anyone in the village – but three dreams in a week seems excessive.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Dan says, leaning back against a tree trunk. Right before Phil’s eyes, branches reach out to gently stroke Dan’s antlers with their leaves. “I thought you had more sense than to come back into the forest.”

“I have sense! But I thought you’d put a spell on me.”

“Right. And what were you going to do about that?”

Phil shrugs half-heartedly. “Ask you to take it off?”

The laugh that erupts from Dan is startling. It feels too loud for the still silence of the forest but it makes Phil smile. No one in the village ever laughs at his jokes – they usually don’t talk to him long enough for him to make one.

Now that Dan’s with him the forest doesn’t feel as big and impossible to navigate as it had before. The darkness between the trees is exciting more than threatening and when the branches reach out to pat him, Phil pats them back.

“So what else does this forest have in it?” Phil asks, trying to sound casual. “So far all I’ve seen is a stream and a clearing and a whole lot of trees. And you, of course.”

“Don’t you want to go home? What makes you think I won’t put a spell on you this time?”

Phil studies Dan carefully. It’s a legitimate question. This is only the second time Phil’s seen Dan, and Phil doesn’t know him any better now than he did a week ago. Maybe it’s the dreams putting him at ease, but Phil feels in his gut that Dan won’t hurt him. He just has to be careful with his questions so that he doesn’t get stuck in something he doesn’t realise he’s agreeing to.

“You won’t.” Phil makes sure to meet Dan’s eyes, so Dan knows he means it.

“I love the confidence.”

Phil mentally curses his pale skin when he can feel his cheeks blushing again. Hopefully it’s too dark for Dan to see.

“I promised Ma I’d be home for lunch. You’ll have me at the edge of the forest with enough time to get back, right?”

There’s a long, heavy pause, in which Phil remembers that Dan is one of the Sidhe, a potentially dangerous and unknown creature. Maybe he’s made a critical mistake. He’s been standing around making conversation and joking because it feels good, as if Dan is just someone he met on market day in the city.

But just when Phil’s thinking he might need to start backing away and hoping he’ll be able to find his way out on his own, Dan says, “Don’t worry. You’ll be home in time for lunch today. I promise.”

Phil turns the sentence over in his mind a few times, trying to find a loophole but he can’t find one. So he nods slowly and turns to consider the trees heading deeper into the forest, trying to find that casual tone he’d been using earlier. “Great. So are you going to show me more of the forest or not?”

Dan shrugs. “If that’s what you want. What do you want to see?”

“Everything!”

Dan huffs a laugh but turns to start walking deeper into the forest and Phil follows close behind. “I don’t know if I can show you everything – the forest is pretty big. I was eating when you called, though, so I can show you where I find my favourite berries.”

“You eat?”

“Of course I eat. It’s my favourite pastime.”

The trees don’t feel like they’re closing in on him when Phil’s walking with Dan. Is that something Dan’s doing, or something the trees are doing, or is it all in his head?

“What else do you do? Do you have to work?”

“Some of the Sidhe work or have positions in the royal court. The rest of us help keep the forest alive. It’s mutually beneficial because the forest protects us from the outside world. I help the trees that aren’t doing so well and the trees help me in return. Here we are.”

Dan drops to sit cross-legged beside a clump of bushes that are heavy with fruit, despite it being almost winter. He plucks a berry off a bush, bites it in half to pick out the seed and then pops the other half into his mouth. He drops the seed on the ground beside him.

Phil’s lowers himself to sit opposite Dan and helps himself to a berry. It’s round, about the size of a blackberry and some kind of dark colour – it’s hard to tell in the limited light of the forest. His stomach growls, a reminder that Phil left the house without breakfast, but he holds the berry up for Dan to see.

“These are from a natural source right, like the stream? So they’re safe for me to eat?”

Dan nods, chews and swallows. “Yes, you can eat them. They’re safe. Just be careful of the seeds – eating the berries won’t hurt you, but you might break a tooth if you bite the stone.”

Like Dan, Phil bites the berry in half and almost chokes on the juice that explodes on his tongue. He wipes a trickle away from the corner of his mouth, picks out the seed and eats the other half. They’re definitely not berries he’s tried before but they taste similar to the cherries his family eats in the summer.

“So the Sidhe have a court?” Phil says, helping himself to more berries. “Does that mean you have a king? Is he like the human one? He doesn’t get involved much with those of us out here. We’re too far from the capital for him to bother with.”

“We have a queen. She gets involved as it suits her. She likes to be kept amused mostly, but she has a quick temper. Most of the Sidhe just try to stay out of her way and if we can’t avoid her, we try to keep the conversation to safe topics. Disagreeing with her or displeasing her can be dangerous.”

“What happens if you disagree with the queen?”

Dan shrugs. “It depends on her mood. That’s what makes her so dangerous. The last one to displease her is still on display in the main hall, as an example to the rest of us.”   


“… On display?”

Dan grimaces. “It’s better if I don’t tell you. I’ll put you off your food.”

Just the thought of what Dan might not be telling him is enough to turn Phil’s stomach. He forces down his last mouthful and stands, wiping his hands on his pants. “Where do the Sidhe live?”

“Depends on the species. Some live in the bushes, some live in the canopy, some live in the water. Most live underground.”

“Underground?!” Phil looks to the leaf litter under his feet and stands on his toes, as if someone’s head might pop out at any moment. “How does that work?”

“Magic.” Dan wiggles his fingers. “It just works. What’s the point in questioning it?”

“Do you live underground?”

Dan lets out a laugh to the sky, another one of those loud, full-body laughs. “Gods no. I avoid going down there as much as I can. I live inside a tree not far from here.”

The way he says that he lives inside a tree, as if that’s any less strange than living underground, makes Phil head spin. If Phil didn’t know any better he’d think he was still dreaming, but his dreams about Dan are always so much more normal than this.

“Will you take me there?” The idea of living inside an actual tree is uncomfortable in its impossibility, but Phil can’t help wanting to see it for himself.

“If you want me to.” Dan sets off into the forest again, apparently just expecting Phil to follow him without any further conversation about it. Maybe he’s figured out by now that Phil’s not going to be so easily put off.

They walk for a couple of minutes and Phil swears that the trees are becoming less dense the further they walk, until they step into a clearing with a single, wide-trunked tree at the centre. The forest forms a perfect ring around it. It’s not until Dan walks up to it that Phil sees that the tree has a door in it, so perfectly blended in with the bark that Phil would have walked right past it without even noticing it was there. 

There’s no doorknob but Dan pulls some sort of latch and the door swings open towards them with a slight creak. The door is wide enough to comfortably allow the breadth of Dan’s antlers, but he has to duck his head to avoid knocking them into the upper limit of the doorway. Phil steps through after him and can’t help but smile – he’s taller than most people in the village so he spends most of his time either ducking through doorways or bumping his head. It’s a novelty to not have to worry about either for a change.

They’ve stepped into a perfectly circular main living area. There are chairs with smooth wooden frames, covered with soft cushions and woollen blankets, and a low table between them. An intricately patterned woven rug covers most of the floor. The walls are lined with shelves holding books and hand-carved wooden figures of various animals. The whole space is lit by large crystals set into the walls at regular intervals that give off an amber light. When Phil reaches out to touch one, he finds they radiate a gentle heat.

“What’s up there?” Phil points to a staircase at his right that curves up to another floor. 

“My bedroom.”   


Phil sets a slow pace around the room, looking at all the things on the shelves. He runs his fingers down the spines of books, written in languages he doesn’t understand. He turns knick knacks over in his hands, most worn smooth and carved from wood to resemble animals or creatures that Phil has never seen before. The whole time he tries to ignore Dan, who hasn’t moved from his post at the door, because it’s only occurred to Phil now that maybe coming into Dan’s house wasn’t the smartest idea. If Dan blocks his escape, how will Phil get away? Yes, Dan said he would take Phil to the edge of the forest and Phil believed that Dan had told the truth, but that had been the truth when he said it. Now the situation has changed.

“Where’s your kitchen?” Phil’s voice is breathy with nerves.

“I don’t have one.”

Phil frowns. “How do you cook?”

“I don’t need to.”

Phil lets out an annoyed huff. Even with his sense of danger pricked, he can’t help but wish Dan would offer more with his answers than just what Phil asks.

As if he can read Phil’s mind, Dan says, “I eat the food that the trees and plants provide. None of that needs cooking.”

Phil nods and cocks his head when the edge of something in the floor catches his eye. He nudges the rug out of the way with his toe and his mouth goes dry when he realises that it’s a trapdoor.

In a moment, Dan has crossed the room and yanked the rug back into place. The look he gives Phil is the sternest Phil has ever seen. Even Ma would be proud of a glare like that.

“What’s down there?” Phil asks, mind whirling with images of holding cells, a torture chamber, a trophy room filled with the heads of all the humans Dan has captured before him.

“Nothing for you.” Dan’s voice is hard. “We should go. It’s a long walk back.”

Dan ushers Phil outside and then leads him back into the forest. It’s all happened so quickly that Phil’s head is spinning.

“You could have trapped me in there.” Phil speaks with absolute certainty and meets Dan’s eyes when he glances back at him over his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Dan shrugs. “There wasn’t much point. I don’t want or need anything from you, and keeping humans can take an awful lot of effort. It’s easier for me to just let you go.”

It’s moments like these, more than the antlers and the appearing out of nowhere, that remind Phil that Dan really isn’t like him. Dan speaks about keeping humans captive as if it’s something that happens every day. Maybe it is. Maybe there’s a human on the other side of the forest right now, who’s just been lured underground and won’t ever see their family again. Dan isn’t callous or cold in the way that he talks; this is just his reality, in the same way that animals bred and slaughtered for meat is Phil’s.

None of this makes Dan any less fascinating, though, and Phil thinks he might even like Dan, who chose not to hurt him even when it would have been so easy. Phil wants to know more, see more, do more. For all that the forest poses dangers, Phil likes it. He likes the dark and the cool, the way the trees reach out to him, and most of all, he likes that no one in the village can find him here. In the forest, Phil isn’t strange and he doesn’t have to try to explain himself.

Like last time, the edge of the forest seems to rise up out of nowhere. They walk around a tree and there’s the bright light of late morning, pouring through the gaps. Phil will be home for lunch, just like he promised. Once again, they stop just short of the treeline and Phil turns to Dan.

“How will I find you next time?”

Dan’s eyebrows rise. “Is there going to be a next time?”

“The forest is a lot more interesting than my village. Besides, I’ve been to your house. That makes us friends, right?”

“You trust me.” Dan’s voice is slow, like he’s testing the possibility. 

“Trust” might be too strong a word so Phil shrugs. “I trust that you’ve had two opportunities to hurt me and both times you’ve let me go, just like you said you would. That’s enough for me.”

“I question your sense of self-preservation.” Dan sighs like he’s giving in. “When you reach the trees, tell them you’re looking for me and they’ll guide the way. Make sure you only follow where they lead and never stray from the path.”

A grin blooms across Phil’s face and he nods eagerly. “I won’t, I promise.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, towards the village. “I have to go but I’ll see you again.”

They don’t exchange goodbyes before Phil sets off back across the fields. Just like last time, he looks back over his shoulder, but this time Dan is watching him go.

*** * ***

That evening, when Ma goes out to get herbs from the garden, she steps on a rock and rolls her ankle.

“Don’t fuss,” she says, while Phil, Martyn and their father do exactly that. “I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”

Except she’s not right as rain. The next day she’s hobbling around as best she can, but she’s definitely not up for walking around the village to make her deliveries.

“I’ll go,” Martyn says.

Phil shakes his head. “Pa needs you in the workshop. You’re supposed to start on that cabinet today, remember? That one’s important – it can’t be late.” He takes a shallow breath. “I’ll make the deliveries.”

Ma’s rubbing the necklace she always wears between her fingers and Martyn’s lips are pursed. They exchange a loaded glance.

“It’s fine.” Martyn takes the stack of clothes into his arms. “It won’t take more than an hour.”

“I’m not a child.” Phil takes the clothes from Martyn, settles them in his arms, and then grabs the list of customers and how much they owe from Ma’s workbench. “I’ll do it.”

Martyn throws up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Alright, but I’ll walk in with you. I need to go that way anyway.”

Martyn grabs a coat and they both kiss Ma’s cheek on their way out the door. They turn left and start up the path towards the centre of the village. Phil can’t help glancing over his shoulder. Their house is on the outskirts of the village so he can see the forest in the distance.

Martyn turns to see what Phil’s staring at and then shakes his head. “You’re not still thinking about the forest?”

Phil tightens his grip on his list when the breeze picks up. “You would be too if you’d gone in there after all Ma’s stories.”

“You haven’t gone in again, have you?” Martyn side-eyes him but Phil keeps his gaze fixed on the path ahead. It might make him look guilty to anyone other than his family, who know how clumsy he is.

“I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”

It’s exactly the kind of answer Dan would give – a reply in the flow of the conversation but not an answer to the question. Martyn doesn’t seem to notice; they just walk on until they reach the next row of houses. 

“Make sure you go straight home after you’ve seen to all this.” Martyn waves his hands at the clothes in Phil’s arms. “Ma will worry otherwise. You know how she gets.”

Phil nods. “See you later.”

Martyn continues on into the main square and Phil sets his shoulders before glancing at the list. Ma always stacks her deliveries in the same order they’re written, and always writes them from the outer houses, working inwards. Phil’s glad for her system now because it means he won’t have to linger on people’s doorsteps trying to sort things out.

Old Mrs Tait is first on the list. She’s not so bad, mostly because she keeps to herself and doesn’t engage with gossip, so Phil’s happy enough to knock on her door.

Listening to her slow shuffling steps from the other side of the door is almost torturous but he’s got a friendly smile fixed to his face when she finally opens the door. She squints up at him, because she’s almost blind these days.

“Phil?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m returning your dress.”   


Her gaze drops to the clothes in his arms. “Where’s Kath?” 

“She hurt her ankle. I’m doing the deliveries today.”

She nods as if she expected this and then takes a coin out of the purse she keeps on the table beside the door. He hands her the dress and she drops the coin into the pouch he has tied to his belt, and then she closes the door in his face.

Phil huffs a laugh and consults his list as he turns away from the house. If only all the people in the village were like her.

The next delivery is to the Bakers. The door is opened by their son, who’s about ten, but before Phil can even say hello, the boy’s mother has grabbed her son by the elbow and pulled him away from the door.

“Go to your room,” she says, keeping a wary eye on Phil.

The boy grumbles and only goes as far as the kitchen, where he peeks around the doorway to watch.

Mrs Baker’s lips are pursed and Phil shuffles his feet on the doorstep. He tries to meet her eyes but in the end his gaze skips away.

“Ma’s sent back the clothes you gave her for adjusting.” He hands her the four shirts from the top of the pile and she clutches them to her chest as if that might undo the taint he’s left on them. Phil clears his throat. “She says there’s not much room left in your son’s shirts to let them out again. When he grows again, you’ll be better off just getting new ones.”

She nods, which is a better response than he’d hoped for, counts the payment into his palm, and then she also closes the door in his face. There’s something more final in Mrs Baker’s actions, though. Mrs Tait was shutting out the world; Mrs Baker is shutting out Phil.

The next few deliveries follow the same pattern. At every house Phil is met with disapproval and children are hidden away. By the time he reaches the last house on the list, in the centre of the village, his shoulders are slumped and all he wants to do is go home and sleep. Maybe tomorrow will be better.   


At the last house, a young man opens the door. He’s probably a couple of years older than Phil, but Phil’s never seen him before. There’s a shock of blonde hair around his face, the same colour as wheat in summer, and his eyes are lake-water blue. 

“Hello,” Phil squeaks and then clears his throat.

A smile quirks at the corner of the man’s lips. “Good morning.”

Phil looks down at this list, even though he knows he’s at the right house. “I’ve got a delivery for Mrs Bennet?”

The man nods. “My aunt. I’m visiting for the winter. I only arrived last night.” The man smiles, more fully this time, and holds out a hand. “I’m Arthur.”

Phil wipes his hand on his pants before he shakes Arthur’s hand and prays that it’s not sweaty. “Phil.”

“You ought to be careful,” says a hard voice from the street. “Lester’s not the sort for respectable young men from the city to be associating with.”

Phil turns and swallows a sigh when he sees Hector standing back from the doorstep, arms folded across his chest. There’s a smug look on his face, like he can’t wait to ruin this potential friendship for Phil, just like he ruined all the others.

“And you are?” Arthur’s voice is slow and his eyes are narrowed.

“Hector, the tax collector’s son. I live next door.”

“I see. Well, thank you for stopping by but I have a guest.” He ushers Phil inside and Phil goes, because he’s too shocked not to. “Have a nice day.” He shuts the door gently but firmly, which seems to make more of an impact than if he’d slammed it, as Phil would have been tempted to do.

They’re left standing by the front door, staring at each other, because Phil was never supposed to actually come inside, but now he’s here and he has no idea what to do. He should probably leave quickly, though. He doesn’t want to make trouble for Arthur when he hasn’t even been in the village for a whole day.

Phil shifts his gaze to the back of the door. “Hector’s right. Things could be difficult around here if people start thinking we’re friends. It’s better if I go.”

“Why do people think so badly of you? Did you kill someone? Bring a curse down on the village? Lose the prize cow on the way into town?” Arthur chuckles.

Phil shifts his weight from foot to foot. “No, but someone else was involved. He got sent away, even though everyone always liked him more than they liked me. The villagers wanted me to go too, but my family refused. Everyone else deals with me if they have to, but they all think I bring shame to the village.”

Arthur’s brow is furrowed, as if he’s trying to piece together the whole story from what little Phil has told him. It makes Phil sick having to tell him at all. He’s never had to do it before because everyone else already knows, and it’s not like he’s stupid enough to tell the people he talks to when he and Ma are in other towns or cities.

“The thing is, Phil, I’m not part of the village. I’m just visiting and so far I haven’t seen anything about you that I feel I should be worried about. Let me worry about what the other villagers think of me and, in the meantime, we can be friends, alright?”

Phil’s mouth is dry. It’s been years since anyone other than his family or Dan have spoken to him for so long and so kindly. He clears his throat and jerks his head in a nod.

“Alright.” He drops his gaze to the last dress in his arms and remembers suddenly that he’s here for a reason. “Oh! Here!” He thrusts the dress at Arthur, who fumbles to catch it before it can fall to the floor. “I really do need to be going. My mother worries if I’m gone too long.”

“Of course.” Arthur hands over the coins to pay for the dress. “Come by whenever you like. We can talk more when you aren’t busy.”

Phil nods, not sure if he’ll manage to work up the courage but he can’t stand the awkwardness of trying to explain that on top of everything else.

Arthur opens the door for him and Phil looks up and down the street. Hector seems to be gone so Phil steps out before turning to face Arthur again.

“It was nice to meet you,” Phil says. “I hope Hector doesn’t bother you too much.”

Arthur shrugs. “Let him bother me if he wants. From what I’ve seen, bullies like him only pick on people if they get a response. Once he sees that I don’t care, he’ll move on.”

Phil’s smile trembles. If only he could say the same. “I hope so. See you, Arthur.”

Arthur shuts the door behind him and Phil heads off back towards home. Of course, he doesn’t make it far before Hector steps around a corner. He’s alone, which is a small comfort, but he’s still a lot broader in the chest than Phil will probably ever be.

“Alright, Lester?” Hector’s voice is low but deceptively polite, as if he expects Phil to believe his kindness after all these years.

“I’m just on my way home,” Phil says, keeps his eyes forward and doesn’t stop walking. He learnt the hard way that it’s easier for Hector to trap him if he stops. “Ma’s expecting me.”

Hector falls in half a step behind him, close enough that Phil can hear him breathing. “Always off home to mother, aren’t you? Like a good boy.”

“She needs my help with her work.”

“Of course. Do you try the dresses on for her? Wear them around the house?”

There’s nothing Phil can say to that. Any attempt to defend himself or refute what Hector says will be met with scorn. Thankfully, a voice behind them bellows out Hector’s name – Hector’s father.

“Hector! Come back here! We’ve got work to do!”

Hector’s steps falter and he halts, so Phil quickens his pace to put as much distance between them as possible. He risks a glance over his shoulder and, when he sees that Hector has turned around and returned to his father, Phil lets his shoulders slump and slows down. 

Maybe it’s to be expected after the morning he’s had, but Phil’s mind turns to Dan as he rounds the corner and his house comes into view. Off in the distance, the forest looms and all Phil wants is to be back in it. Things feel simpler there. It’s just Dan and Phil and the trees – no one there expects Phil to be any more than who and what he is. Dan doesn’t ask questions or expect Phil to explain himself; he’s the only one in Phil’s life who doesn’t. Even Ma and Pa and Martyn, who love Phil more than anyone else in the world, expect Phil to explain why he is the way he is.

Except that Phil can’t explain it, no matter how many times he tries. His parents spring the questions on him sometimes, as if they might surprise him into knowing the answer.

Ma looks up anxiously from her seat at the workbench when Phil opens the door. She lets out a visible sigh.

“How did you go?” she asks. She tries to ask in the same way she asks Pa and Martyn about their day when they’re all eating dinner, but she can’t help the way her voice is breathless with relief.

“Good.” Phil drops the full purse on the bench beside her. “Everything was perfectly smooth.”

They both know he’s lying, because that’s what he always does and that’s what his family expects him to do. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Actually …” He bites his lip and then meets her eyes. “I made a friend. His name’s Arthur. He’s Mrs Bennet’s nephew and he’s visiting for a while.”

Ma’s brow furrows gently. “… A friend?”

Phil nods. “He asked me to have lunch with him, to tell him more about the village. I just came back to give you the money and let you know.”

“Oh.” Her gaze casts around the room, probably looking for something to say, because this has never happened before. They don’t have a routine for when Phil comes home and says he’s made a friend. “Alright. Make sure you invite him around for dinner sometime. We don’t want to look impolite.”

“I will. See you later.”

He leaves the house before she can say anything else but as soon as the door is closed behind him, he turns away from the village and follows the road towards the forest.

He stops and glances around when he steps past the treeline, but he’s not sure what he expects. The forest looks the same as it had the last two times he was here. Dan had told him to tell the trees that he wanted to see Dan, and that the trees would show him the way. There’s nothing to indicate that the trees are listening at all, but Dan had said they would and Dan can’t lie.

There’s a small voice in the back of his mind – probably the one part of him that holds onto some rationality and logic against the tangents his mind wanders off on – that says this is a stupid idea. He’d come to the forest once to escape from Hector and his cronies, and the second time to confront Dan. Those were valid reasons. There’s no reason for him to be here again, and both Dan and his mother have told Phil that the forest is dangerous. Phil knows in his bones that they’re right, in the same way that a mouse knows that the hawk flying overhead is dangerous. Still, he’s come to the forest twice and returned home safe and sound both times. If he just sticks by Dan and doesn’t wander off, there’s no reason to think that this time will be any different.

Phil clears his throat. How is a person supposed to greet a forest? “Ah … hello … I’d like to see Dan, please. He said you would show me the way.”

There’s a long pause and Phil holds his breath. Will this even work? What if there’s another Dan in the forest? How will the trees know which one Phil wants to see? That rational part of his mind chimes in again that this is ridiculous – is he really wondering if the trees will know which of the Sidhe he wants to visit?

But just as he’s starting to think this was all a big joke, the branches around him creak and shift. The movement is subtle, but when he looks closer he can see that they’ve blocked off gaps and paths around some of the trees, leaving a clear route for him to follow.

Phil’s stomach jumps and a grin spreads slowly across his face. There’s no hesitation as he sets off into the forest; if the rational part of Phil’s mind is screaming at him to stop and think about this, he can’t hear it. He walks at a steady pace and when the branches reach out to stroke his clothes and his hair, Phil lets them, and trails his fingers across the rough bark of their trunks in return.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking for when he hears the crunching footsteps coming through the trees on his right. Phil stops, already smiling, because maybe Dan has come to meet him, but the smile drops off his face when the figure ducks under one of the branches and straightens.

He’s not as tall as Dan or Phil, and not as broad as Hector, but this Sidhe is compelling in his own way. His skin is delicately creamy and looks baby-soft, his jaw is sharp, red curls tumble into his blue eyes, and he’s muscled all over – Phil can say that with certainty because all the Sidhe wears is a flap of leather that might pass for a loincloth if he really wants to stretch the definition. Phil’s gaze drops to avoid lingering over that particular area and he almost jumps when he sees that the Sidhe has hooves where he should have feet.

The Sidhe’s head tilts to the right and a smile curves the left side of his mouth. A pit opens in Phil’s stomach. 

“Well, hello,” says the Sidhe. “Who might you be?”

“I …” Phil shrugs and waves a hand over his shoulder, because something in him doesn’t want this Sidhe to know his name. “I live in the village.”

“Then you’ve wandered a very long way.” The Sidhe takes a step towards him and Phil shuffles one step back.

“I’m here to meet someone.” Phil stands taller when his voice doesn’t shake.

The Sidhe chuckles and takes another step closer, but this time Phil stands his ground. 

“Your lies won’t help you here,” the Sidhe says, reaching a hand out to him. “You’re not protected. I can sense it.”

Phil dodges the hand. “What–?”

“Why do you always have to make a nuisance of yourself, Oren? Can’t you tell when you’re not wanted?” 

Phil and the Sidhe – Oren, apparently – turn to look up the path, where Dan has suddenly appeared. His voice is sickly sweet, completely at odds with the dark glower on Dan’s face. Oren pulls his hand back but doesn’t move away.

“He doesn’t belong to you,” Oren says.

“I saw him first.”

“But you haven’t claimed him. That’s against the rules, Dan.”

Phil’s gaze swings back and forth between them. Nothing about what they’re saying makes sense, but he doesn’t want to speak up and draw attention to himself now that Oren’s focus is elsewhere.

Dan folds his arms over this chest. “Are you really going to tell  _ me _ what the rules are? Or are you going to rub your last two brain cells together and figure out that this is the part where you leave?”

The already-cool temperature has dropped to the lowest Phil has ever felt it. The branches around them creak and the leaves rustle, even though the air is still. What little light there is has faded, as if the trees have completely closed around them.

Oren glances around and then stares at Phil for one long, heavy moment, before he steps away towards the edge of the path.

“Fine, but if you have any sense, you’ll do what you’re supposed to. Not even you’re immune to her whims.”

The branches at the edge of the path part almost reluctantly and Oren ducks past them. Within seconds he’s gone and Phil sucks in a huge breath. There’s a heaviness in the air and Dan is still glaring at the gap Oren had departed through, but the trees are loosening now and the air is warming again.

“What was all that about?” Phil says, walking up to stand beside Dan. He’s not worried that Oren is going to come back and snatch him away, but near Dan is clearly the best place to be right now.

Dan rolls his eyes and turns away to lead Phil up the path. “That was just Oren. He thinks he’s powerful because he’s good-looking, but that’s not really how it works. You don’t have to worry about him – you’re not his type.”

Dan’s words drive the whole incident from Phil’s mind. Instead all he can think of is Hector and what he had said that morning, but there’s nothing cruel or mocking in Dan’s tone. Everything he says is so matter-of-fact.

Phil bites his lip, wondering if he should say something or just move on … but this whole morning has felt like it’s been pushing him towards this, between Arthur and Hector and now Dan.

“The people in the village talk about me.”

The only sounds around are the rustle of the leaves and the soft tread of their feet on the path.

“What do they say?”

Phil takes a breath to speak, and then has to take another when he chokes on the words. “… That I'm interested in men.”

“Are you?” Dan asks the question like it's perfectly reasonable. 

“… Yes.” The word feels heavy in Phil's chest so he rushes on. “Do the Sidhe allow that kind of thing?”

Dan shrugs, careless and easy. “We generally keep to our own species, but there are no real rules.”

Phil comes to an abrupt halt but Dan walks on a few steps before he realises that Phil isn’t following. He stops and turns to look at him; Phil can barely see him through the tears blurring his eyes.

“… Phil? Are you alright?” 

Phil jerks his head in a nod and drops his gaze to the ground, trying to scrub the tears away with his sleeve. He doesn’t want Dan to see, to think that he’s silly or a child. He’s sick of being treated like a baby by his parents and Martyn – he doesn’t need it from Dan as well, not here in the forest where all the rules of Phil’s regular life don’t matter.

Dan edges closer, reaches out, drops his hand and then reaches out again to cup Phil’s elbow. “I suppose humans aren’t as accepting about these things as the Sidhe are.”

Phil shakes his head and clears his throat. He meets Dan’s eyes once he’s sure the tears are gone. “They say that it’s unnatural – that  _ I’m _ unnatural. They say that I bring shame to the village. No one speaks to me if they can help it, and parents keep their children away because they’re worried the children will become like me.”

Dan frowns, like he’s thinking through what Phil has said. “How did they even find out?”

Phil’s breath catches. He didn’t tell Arthur the story but that was different. Maybe Phil only knows Dan marginally better than he knows Arthur, but Phil knows that Dan doesn’t care about human rules and he knows that Dan doesn’t lie. Dan is safe in ways that Arthur might never be.

“It didn’t take much.” Phil’s voice is surprisingly steady. “I was about 14. All the other boys had started talking about the girls they were wanted to marry when we grew up. I wasn’t interested in any of the girls really, but I had a friend, the youngest son of the tax collector, and I was definitely interested in him. No one had told me that it wasn’t allowed so I kissed him one day, out in one of the back fields. Hector – the one who chased me into the forest the first time – it was his brother. Hector saw us and told their father, who told everyone else what I had done. And that was that. My friend was sent away by his family to live with other relatives, but my parents stood up to everyone and refused to send me away too.” Phil sighs and shrugs. “It might have been better if they had. I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to make that mistake twice.”

“You’re not stupid, Phil.” Dan’s voice is quiet but his words are firm. “And you’re not unnatural either. I would know. I’m more familiar with what’s natural and what isn’t than those people in your village.”

Phil huffs a wet laugh and Dan smiles.

“One day none of them are going to matter,” Dan says. “You’re a good, kind, generous person and you deserve more than all those people who don’t realise how special you are.”

Phil blinks. “… I’m special?”

The corner of Dan’s mouth twists up in a wry smile. “You wandered into the forest and I let you go. You came back and I let you go again.  _ That’s _ unnatural, but I couldn’t help it. Maybe I should deter you from coming back again – I know it would be safer for you – but I’m selfish. You’re interesting and I like hearing what you have to say. So yes, Phil, you’re special.”

Phil’s stomach flutters. He’s never been special to someone before, except to Ma, but she doesn’t count. Dan owes him nothing, least of all this, and Phil isn’t quite sure what to say. Should he tell Dan that he’s special too? Should he protest and try to convince Dan that he’s wrong? In the end, he falls back on what he knows.

“Thank you.” It still doesn’t feel like the right response, but Dan exhales a laugh and shakes his head. 

“You have to stop thanking me when I haven’t done anything.” He steps away and Phil clenches his fists to stop himself reaching out to draw him back.

“Why?” 

“Because it’s not what the Sidhe do. When we’re given something, we offer something of equal value in return. All I did was tell you there’s nothing wrong with you.”

Phil’s eyebrows rise up his forehead. “You say that like it’s nothing. I haven’t had friends or anyone other than my family to talk to since I was 14. People slam doors in my face and refuse to touch me. You saying that I’m not dirty or wrong isn’t nothing. Your words have value to me, Dan, but I don’t have anything else to give you in return.” 

Dan is quiet and still, his gaze fixed on Phil’s face like it holds the answer to a question he didn’t even know he had. Eventually, he nods slowly. 

“Maybe you’re right. I shouldn’t have dismissed your troubles so carelessly. I apologise.”

Phil’s gut reaction is to say that Dan has nothing to apologise for, that he didn’t know, that Phil’s problems are his own … but before he speaks he stops to think about what Dan said about offering something of equal value in return for something given.

“I accept your apology.”

A smile quirks Dan’s lips and he nods in approval, but before he can say anything else a light, female voice filters down from the branches above them.

“This is very touching.”

Dan sighs and almost rolls his eyes, even as Phil is looking around for the speaker. His jaw drops when a young woman flutters into view in front of his eyes, her pointed iridescent wings beating steadily to keep her in place. She seems to be wearing some kind of flower as a dress and her hair is almost as long as the length of her body.

“Phil, this is Trina,” Dan says, sounding weary, as if he expects her to be more work than her size indicates.

“Hello.” He feels like he should offer to shake her hand, but she’s so small her hands would probably only manage to wrap around one of his finger tips.

Trina flies right up to his face and around his head, peering into his eyes and ears. “I saw you with Oren. Too bad for him you’re already spoken for …” Her eyes narrow and she glances back at Dan. “Or you’re  _ supposed _ to be spoken for.”

Dan’s eyes widen slightly but then he seems to force himself to shrug carelessly. “I forgot.”

Trina flies over to stand on Dan’s left shoulder and lean into his face. He hunches away when she comes too close.

“What do you mean you forgot? How could you forget? You’ve got one job, Dan!”

“Actually, I’ve got several.” He brushes her off but she just flutters by his ear instead.

“But this is the most important one. You know how long it’s been since we had a human in the forest!”

Phil’s brow furrows. This is one of those situations where he understands the words being spoken, but he has no idea what’s actually being talked about. It sounds similar to what Oren was saying, though, so there’s clearly something about Phil being in the forest that he should probably know.

“Will one of you please explain what’s going on?” 

Trina glares and Phil recoils. She’s small enough that Phil could probably squash her without noticing, but now there’s something fierce and menacing about her. He has to remember that there are creatures in this forest that are capable of things he probably can’t even imagine. Trina might be small but Phil doesn’t doubt now that she could do him harm.

“What makes you think we owe you any explanation at all?” she says. “You’re in our world now and you’re lucky to have made it this far with all your limbs intact.”

“He doesn’t need to be threatened.” Dan’s voice is low, not quite as scary as when he’d been talking to Oren, but just as firm.

Trina’s gaze stays fixed on Phil’s. “Doesn’t he?” She cocks her head to the side and flutters slowly towards him. “Do you know how easily Dan could have ensnared you?”

Phil tries to pull his gaze away from her but the slow, steady beat of her wings seems to echo loud in his ears and match the pump of his heart. His mouth works, even as he tries to keep his lips shut tight. “He – he said he could have trapped me in his house.”

Trina’s eyes narrow further and her lips purse. “He didn’t even need to do that. He could have given you a token, or slipped one in your pocket without you even noticing, and that would have been enough. We would have been all you could think about. You would have been pulled back here, again and again, deeper and deeper, until one day the fog in your mind cleared and you found yourself trapped with the dirt above your head and the trees roots as your cage, and the only freedom you had was what the queen felt inclined to give you.”

Phil feels his shoulder slam into a tree trunk and he shakes his head to clear it of the daze that had settled over him. When he looks around, Dan is standing in front of Trina, where Phil had been just a moment ago. She’s got her arms folded and a surly expression on her face. Dan looks like he’s one push away from plucking off her wings.

“That’s enough, Trina. Leave him alone.”

“If you don’t have the stomach to do what’s expected of you, stand aside and let someone else do it.”

“Someone like you?”

“If I’m lucky.”

“Not today. Go find something else to do – there’s nothing for you here.”

Her glare travels from Dan to Phil, where it lingers, then back again. She flies away without even a goodbye. Dan’s shoulders sag and he bites his lip. For the first time he looks uncertain.

“Are you alright?” Phil’s voice sounds as weak as his knees feel.

Dan lets out a breathless laugh and he turns to face him, shaking his head. “Am  _ I _ alright? What about you?”

Phil shrugs. “I still don’t even really understand what’s going on and I have no idea what just happened.”

Dan looks down the path in both directions, back towards the edge of the forest and then deeper into it. When he looks back at Phil, his face is hard and decisive.

“Come with me.”

Phil hesitates when Dan starts following the path deeper into the forest.

“I’m not going to hurt you or lead you into a trap. I’ll have you back at the edge of the forest in an hour, safe and sound.”

Phil’s stomach has tied itself in knots but, despite everything that’s already happened today, he still trusts Dan. He nods and sticks close to Dan as he follows him up the path.

“Are you going to tell me what all that was about?” A part of him doesn’t want to know – if there’s an untimely death in his future, he’d rather not know it’s coming – but he’s trying to be smart about this. If he wants to keep coming and going from the forest, he needs to understand what the dangers are.

“I didn’t think you’d want to know.”

It’s another one of Dan’s half-answers, and it doesn’t even tell Phil if Dan wants to tell him or not. He needs to be more direct if he wants Dan to give him any information.

“What were Trina and Oren talking about? What did Trina mean when she said you didn’t need to trap me in your house? What’s that token she mentioned?”

Dan glances over his shoulder at him, that glint back in his eye. “That’s a lot of questions.”

“I can ask them one at a time if that’s easier for you.”

Dan’s shoulders shake as he suppresses a laugh and Phil smiles. Even with all these threats hanging around, there’s something exciting about knowing that he can make Dan laugh.   


“When a Sidhe meets a human here, we’re expected to give them a token. Some humans will accept one themselves, but in other cases we just slip something to them – in a pocket usually, like Trina said. It’s often something shiny and precious-looking so that, when the human gets home and finds it, they’re more likely to keep it around, even if they don’t know where it came from. But it’s like a window that’s been left open. Through the token, the forest and the Sidhe call the human back. It’s all the human can think about. Eventually, they return. It depends which Sidhe gave the token, but usually they let the human come and go a few times. The Sidhe enjoy playing with your people.”

“What happens when the Sidhe are finished playing?”

“We take them down into the court and present them to the queen. What  _ she _ does with them is usually determined by her mood on the day.”

Phil chews his lip, eyeing the back of Dan’s curly head and then the trees around them. “You said you didn’t put a spell on me to make me come back.”

“That’s right.”

“Did you give me a token?”

“No.”

Phil waits, because it’s not like Dan to limit himself to just one word, but then the silence draws out and Phil realises he’s not going to say anything else.

“But what you’ve just described … it sounds exactly like what’s happened to me.”

“Did you find anything on yourself or in your clothes that you couldn’t explain? A precious or unusual rock? A beautiful flower? An acorn? Even an absurdly-shaped leaf would do it.”

Phil strains his mind to think back over the last few weeks. Ma trained him and Martyn throughout childhood to empty all their pockets before putting their clothes out for her to wash, and the habit has stuck. He knows he hasn’t brought anything back from the forest, intentionally or otherwise.

“No.”

Dan nods. “Then you being here has nothing to do with me or any of the Sidhe. You’re here because you want to be.” He scoffs. “And who can blame you, with the sort of people living in your village?”

Absurdly, it’s the reminder of Phil’s other problems that relieves the tension. His shoulders ease as they round a tree into the clearing Dan’s house sits in.

When they step inside it looks more lived-in than the last time Phil was here. A book is open on one of the chairs, a language Phil can’t read scrawled across the pages, and there’s a bowl of nuts sitting on the table with a pile of empty shells stacked neatly nearby.

“Come upstairs.” Dan leads Phil up the curving staircase.

Maybe Phil should feel nervous about climbing a staircase inside a tree, but the balustrade is smooth and cool under Phil’s palm and the steps feel sturdy. They lead to Dan’s bedroom, as he had said, but they don’t linger – Dan leads him on to another staircase that curls further up.

“I thought you said your bedroom was upstairs?” Phil cranes his neck to see as much of Dan’s bedroom as he can before they step out of view, but the most he catches is a wooden bed with some pillows and a blanket.

Dan waves his hand over his shoulder at the room below. “It is.”

“You didn’t tell me there was more.”

Dan turns and smirks. “You didn’t ask.”

The next level up is some kind of workroom. There’s a table in the centre, littered with wood shavings and various tools that Pa and Martyn use when they’re making furniture in the shop. Pa had tried to teach Phil when he was younger, thinking he could train both his sons into taking over the business, but Phil had never mastered the woodworking skills and he’d come too close to losing a finger too many times to stick with it.

Dan’s rummaging in a drawer on the other side of the room so Phil runs his fingers over the crude animal carving on the table. It’s obviously not finished yet, all rough edges and indefinite features, but it’s already clear that when it’s done it’ll be as beautiful as the ones on the shelves downstairs. Phil hadn’t realised that Dan had made them himself.

When Dan turns back to him, something clenched in his hand, Phil points to yet another staircase leading up to another floor. “What’s up there?”

Dan glances up as he walks over to join Phil at the workbench. “The balcony. That’s the last floor, don’t worry.”

Phil’s eyebrows perk up. “You have a balcony? Can I see?”

Dan shakes his head. “Another time. You’ve already drawn too much attention to yourself this visit and I said I’d have you back at the edge of the forest in an hour.” 

He holds his clenched hand out to Phil, palm up, and opens his fingers. There’s some kind of bracelet sitting in his palm, made out of what look to be small stones somehow threaded on a cord.

“This is a gift,” Dan says, as if that explains everything.

Phil raises his eyebrows. “… Thank you?”

Dan rolls his eyes and Phil can’t help but smile.

“No, it’s a  _ Gift _ . It’s another kind of token that the Sidhe give to humans, but this will protect you. Traditionally, our rulers are considered powerful if they hold a number of human captives or trophies, so we’re discouraged from giving out Gifts, but there’s nothing that says we can’t. Humans haven’t been seen in this part of the forest for many years, and some of the Sidhe have started muttering that the queen is losing her hold – never where she can hear, of course. They value their heads.

“If you wander into the forest and meet any of the Sidhe while wearing this Gift, they’ll know you’re protected and they won’t be able to hurt you directly. They can still lead you astray, but not harm you themselves, and they won’t be able to take it off you either. You need to wear this all the time.”

Phil picks up the bracelet gently and brings it closer to his face to have a better look. It’s then that he realises the stones are actually seeds from the berries they were eating the last time Phil came into the forest. They’re smooth and round, and still stained purple from the juice.

“I’ll wear it,” Phil says.

“ _ All _ the time, Phil.” Dan’s voice is low and serious and it makes Phil meet his eyes. “You must promise never to take it off. You’re already a target now that Oren knows about you and Trina knows I haven’t been trying to lure you in. If they, or any of the other Sidhe, find out you’ve removed it, they’ll see it as a challenge.”

Phil nods. “I won’t take it off, I promise.”

Dan studies his face for a long moment and then, apparently satisfied, plucks the bracelet from his fingers. “Wrist, please.”

Phil holds out his left hand and Dan loops the bracelet around and deftly ties the ends in a knot so complicated Phil would probably have to take a knife to it to get it off.

“There,” Dan says, as Phil drops his arm and tugs his sleeve down to cover the bracelet. “You should probably also stay away for a few weeks.”

Phil’s breath catches in his chest. “I thought you said this will protect me?”

“It will, but there’s no sense in tempting them any more than you already have. Give them some time to be distracted by something else.”

As much as Phil wants to protest, it does make sense. He sighs but nods reluctantly under Dan’s expectant gaze.

Dan’s shoulders loosen and a smile softens his face. “It’ll go by quickly, you’ll see. Now come on, I’d better get you back.”

*** * ***

It’s been two and a half days since he said goodbye to Phil at the edge of the forest and Dan feels like he’s been holding his breath the whole time. It was almost a relief to wake up that morning and find the red-eyed raven waiting for him on the foot of his bed. He refuses to visit the queen or the court of his own accord, but he can’t ignore a summons.

The goblins must have been told to expect him because a troop of them, decked out in royal red with swords at their hips, had been waiting when he arrived and immediately escorted him to the queen’s sitting room. Anyone who doesn’t know her as well as Dan does might see the intimate setting as a positive sign, but Dan knows that the friendlier she seems, the more danger you’re in.

It feels like it’s been an eternity since the goblins shut him in here. It might have been hours. Dan knows she’s doing anything important – she’s probably not doing anything at all. She might even still be asleep.

At first, he’d sat on one of the cushioned chairs by the fire but with nothing to occupy him he’d eventually stood to inspect the room. It’s been years since he was down here – a decade at least – and things have changed. All the rugs and wall covers have been replaced and the tea service laid out on one of the tables looks so new it might have been painted just that morning. He gravitates towards the shelves opposite the door and lifts the lid off a small, delicate pot to peek inside. He inhales sharply when he sees that it’s full of human molars, all perfectly clean and white. He’s not sure what she’s saving them for, but he wouldn’t put it past her to have them threaded into a necklace, like humans do with pearls. He replaces the lid, the clink echoing loudly in the silence, and scans the other ornaments on display. He finds what he’s looking for tucked in the back corner of the highest shelf: a clumsy wooden carving of a kelpie. He brushes his fingers across its mane and feels a tiny spark of hope bloom in the pit of his stomach.

The hope doesn’t last long. Dan doesn’t hear her enter the room, but he knows she’s there by the way the back of his neck prickles.

She tsks and then speaks, her voice deceptively gentle. “Now, Dan, is it polite to poke through someone else’s things? I thought I raised you better than that.”

He’s tempted to remind her that he was raised by three very kind bean-tighe, but he doesn’t have a death wish. Instead he turns and bows deeply from the waist, only straightening when she sighs.

She’s still the kind of beautiful that stuns people, all delicate features and heavy mahogany-coloured hair that curls over her shoulders. Her lips are stained that vibrant, royal red and her eyes … they used to be the bluest eyes Dan had ever seen, but that was before he met Phil.

“You look well,” he says.

She runs her hands over the front of her full crimson skirts and hums in agreement. “Sit.” 

Her voice is hard and she turns towards the chairs with the certainty of someone used to being obeyed. Dan follows and sinks into the chair opposite hers. He forces his shoulders to relax and meets her steely gaze head-on.

She makes a show of pouring two cups of tea, hands one to him and then sips from her own cup. To keep up the facade, he raises his cup to his mouth but doesn’t drink, even as he enjoys the delicate scent of elderflower wafting from it.

“Dan,” she says, again in that deceptively gentle voice, “I’ve been hearing concerning things about you.”

“Have you?”

Her mouth hardens. “Don’t toy with me. I’ve been told that you met a human in the forest. Is that true?”

Was it Oren or Trina that told her? Oren has been trying to curry favour with the queen for years, and Trina had probably felt betrayed by Dan’s broken promise to her. Or was it someone else entirely? The forest is crawling with life, much more than Phil probably realises. It isn’t impossible that someone else had seen them and reported back to her.

“It’s true.” 

As much as Dan would like to dodge the question, the queen’s a hard one to get around. She wouldn’t be the queen if she wasn’t. He needs to maintain a delicate balance between them: if he rushes her through this conversation she’ll get suspicious, but if he draws it out too long there’s a chance he’ll end up in trouble he won’t be able to get himself out of.

Her eyes widen but the movement is so small anyone else would have missed it. Dan’s made it a particular mission of his life to read her moods. The news of a human in the forest will have excited her, but she knows well how contrary Dan can be.

“And have you given this human a token?”

Technically, yes – the Gift is a kind of token – but not the kind she means, and he desperately needs to keep her from finding out that he’s taken steps to protect Phil from her. But if he dodges too obviously, she’ll see right through him.

“I didn’t see the need.”

Her eyes narrow. “And why is that?”

Dan shrugs, careless and casual. “He’s keen enough on his own.”

One of her fingers taps the rim of her cup, drawing Dan’s attention to the ring on her middle finger. The jewel set in it is red, but it’s so dark it’s almost black.

“Have you been encouraging him to return?”

That’s not an easy question to get around. Dan certainly hasn’t been  _ dis _ couraging, but he wouldn’t say he was  _ en _ couraging either.

“I’ve shown him things to keep him interested in coming back,” Dan finally says. “He has a curious nature.”

She taps the rim of her cup again; she hasn’t drunk more than that first sip. “You took a risk. You should have secured him at the first opportunity.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

She arches a brow. “Indeed.” She watches him carefully and he fights to keep his face as unaffected as possible. “You can go.”

He nods, sets his still-full cup down on the nearby table and stands to walk to the door. He’s just grabbed the door handle when she speaks again.

“Dan.”

His hand clenches but he turns back to her. Maybe she knows better than to believe his affected ease, because her eyes are dark and her voice is hard.

“The next time he comes into the forest, bring him to me. I will not be undermined by my own son. Is that clear?”

There’s a moment when he wants to yell at her and tear the perfectly-put-together room apart, scatter those human teeth across the floor and throw that kelpie carving he made as a child into the fire. The anger in him burns hot at the way she thinks he owes her anything just because she brought him into the world, even when she thrust him into the arms of his nursemaids the moment she was bored with him.

But he doesn’t do any of that, because she might be his mother but she’s the queen above all else, and she enjoys her power too much to let a little thing like shared blood stop her from removing any threats to her reign.

He smiles with practised ease. “Perfectly.”

*** * ***

Phil gasps and sticks the finger he’s just stabbed with his needle into his mouth.

Ma tsks and shakes her head, still carefully cutting the pieces of the dress they’re making out of the fabric laid out on the workbench. “You’re distracted. Are you alright?”

He nods and inspects his finger for any blood before wiping it on his trousers and picking the embroidery back up. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” She glances up at him once she’s made the final cut. “You’ve been out of sorts for weeks.”

He knows. It’s been four weeks since he said goodbye to Dan at the edge of the forest and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him or the forest or if Oren or Trina have been done anything to him since. Staying away has been the hardest thing he’s ever done and, to make matters worse, he doesn’t know when it’ll be safe to go back.

At least he’s had Arthur to keep him company. Arthur has come to the Lester house most days and they’ve spent Phil’s lunch hour talking about the towns they’ve been to and the things they’re interested in. There have been times Phil’s been tempted to tell Arthur about Dan and the forest, because the secret is starting to eat away at him, always there on the tip of his tongue, but he’s always managed to stay silent. Dan never said that Phil couldn’t tell anyone about him, but how many people would believe that Phil’s most interesting friend has antlers and talks to trees?

“PHIL!”

He jumps and looks up to see his mother standing beside him with her hands propped on her hips.

“What? Sorry!”

She sighs and shakes her head, but she’s more exasperated than angry. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” Her eyes narrow. “It’s not Arthur, is it? He’s not giving you any trouble?”

“No, Ma. I’m sorry. I just … haven’t been sleeping well.”

At least that’s the truth. Even his sleeping mind is preoccupied by Dan and what might have happened to him since Phil saw him last.

He lays down his work and stands. “I’m going to splash some water on my face. Maybe that will wake me up a bit.”

He can feel her gaze piercing the back of his head as he leaves the room and walks out into the back garden. He shivers and rubs his hands together to ward off the chill. Winter has properly set in now, with the Longest Night just a week away. There are even hints in the air that it might snow soon.

He crosses to the water barrel by the corner of the house and rolls up his sleeves. He has to grit his teeth first, but he dunks his hands into the icy water and splashes the handful into his face. He gasps at the bite of each drop but it’s like a shock to his system and he  _ does _ feel more alert than he did before. He shakes his head, his whipping fringe sending water flying, and then shakes off his hands. When he turns back to the door, Ma is standing there watching him but her face is ashen and one of her hands is raised almost to her mouth, as if she’d gone to cover it but got stuck halfway there.

“Ma?!” Phil rushes to her and takes her elbows in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

Gently, she takes his left arm in her hands and raises it between them, so they can both see the bracelet circling his wrist.

“Phil …” Her voice is so breathy and quiet he’s straining to hear her. “Where did you get this?”

He forces himself to calmly pull his arm away and roll his sleeve back down. “Arthur gave it to me.”

When she looks back up into his face, he’s stunned to see teary, glaring eyes. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve been in the forest.”

Phil shakes his head, but it’s a jerky movement that betrays him. “No, I–”

“You have!” She yanks his sleeve back up. “This is a Gift! You’ve been talking to one of the Sidhe!”

Phil is gaping like a fish. Despite all the stories she’s told him and Martyn, it’s a shock to hear her use the words that he’s only ever heard from Dan, and he’s too caught off guard to try to maintain the lie. “How do you know that?”

She sobs, covers her mouth with her hands to keep the sound in, and hurries back into the house. Phil follows close on her heels.

“Ma!” He watches her closely as she sinks into one of the chairs by the fire. “How do you know all this?”

She swallows and then takes a few deep breaths, before she reaches under the neckline of her dress and draws her necklace out by the chain. It’s the same silver one she’s worn every day for as long as Phil can remember. Pa had offered to buy her a new one once, but she’d refused and said that hers was special, that she would never take it off even if he wanted to deck her out in gold and diamonds.

Phil’s mouth drops and he kneels on the floor by her feet. He reaches out slowly, giving her a chance to pull away, and then takes the medallion between his fingers. He turns it over and rubs his thumb over the bird engraved on the back.

“You have a Gift,” he whispers, because this doesn’t feel like the kind of thing he can say out loud. 

“You were never supposed to know about this,” she says,wringing her hands. “Why did you go into the forest? I told you how dangerous it was!”

He drops his hands into his lap and avoids her gaze. “I was trying to get away from Hector and the forest was my only option. But I wasn’t going to stay there long! And I always thought the stories were just stories! Why didn’t you tell us they were real?”

Her mouth quirks in a reluctant smile. “Would you have believed me?”

Phil understands where she’s coming from. Honestly,  _ he _ might have believed her, but Pa and Martyn never would have.

“Where did you get your Gift from?” he asks.

She sighs and stares into the fire. “It was a long time ago. I was only 16 and I was out collecting berries one day when I wandered into the forest. I got hopelessly lost. Who knows what might have happened to me? Except then I met Regin. He had wings.”

Phil splutters a laugh and his mother smiles, her eyes twinkling. 

“He was very kind,” she goes on, “and he helped me find my way back.”

“How did you know he wasn’t going to hurt you?”

Ma shrugs and shakes her head. “I didn’t, but I had nothing to lose by trusting him. I’d been wandering around for hours and I never would have found my way out on my own. I thought about him for weeks afterwards until I finally went back.”

Phil frowns, thinking back to what Dan had told him about the tokens. “What if he was trying to lure you back in?”

Ma arches a brow, apparently surprised at what he knows. “That’s exactly what he was doing. He gave me a flower when I left. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and it never wilted.”

Phil’s brow furrows further. “But … You’re here, and he gave you a Gift, so he obviously didn’t try to capture you.”

“Well, he  _ did _ try. He let me come and go for months and every time I saw him we would talk for hours but then …”

Phil leans forward. “... Then?”

She rubs the medallion between her fingers but her gaze is far away. “He changed his mind. He said he couldn’t give me over to the queen because he loved me.”

Despite himself, Phil’s face twists. It’s strange enough trying to imagine his parents young and in love without also trying to imagine his mother with some probably-handsome, winged Sidhe.

Either Ma doesn’t notice his discomfort or she ignores it, because she continues, “Regin said that the queen had found out he wasn’t going to hand me over and that it was too dangerous for me to keep seeing him. He told me how to destroy the flower token, gave me his Gift and told me never to go back into the forest.”

“What happened to him?”

Ma shrugs. “I don’t know. I never went near the forest and I never saw him again.”

It’s a lot to take in. Phil feels like his world has been turned upside down. Knowing that all this time, Ma has known about the Sidhe is doing strange things to his insides. What must it have been like for her all these years, knowing that there was a whole race of magical people living in the forest, and knowing they were dangerous, but never being able to warn her family or friends outright for fear they would think she had lost her mind?

“Where did you put the token, Phil?”

Phil looks up at her and frowns, still lost in his thoughts. “What?”

“The token that the Sidhe gave you. We can destroy it.”

“Oh.” A smile tugs at Phil’s mouth before he can stop it. “He didn’t give me one.”

Ma blinks. “What do you mean?”

“He didn’t give me one. I went into the forest to get away from Hector and I met one of the Sidhe – his name is Dan. He has antlers and he talks to the trees. He showed me to a stream so that I could drink some water and then he returned me to the edge of the forest. I kept thinking about him and I thought he’d put some kind of spell on me so I went back to confront him about it. But there was no spell, and no token, as I found out later. Turns out I was just curious.”

Ma looks to the ceiling as if she’s praying for patience. “Phil!”

“I know! I’m sorry! But he’s completely safe! He gave me this Gift the last time I was there,” he holds his wrist up to her, “and he told to stay away for a little while. I met some … friends … of his, but they weren’t so happy to see me.”

“I’m sure they weren’t.” She smoothes a hand over his hair. “You should stay away.”

He drops his gaze and he nods reluctantly. “I know, but I can’t, Ma. Dan is …” He shrugs. “Dan is special. He accepts me for who I am.”

Her eyes are bright but she’s fighting back the tears he can see in them. She presses a gentle kiss to his forehead and he closes his eyes, because the warmth and the scent of her reminds him of when he was a child, when the children in the village were his playmates, before the Sidhe and all the secrets existed in his life.

“I’ll be careful,” he says, low and quiet between them. “I promise.”

She sighs and sounds older than she ever has before.

*** * ***

Things are different in the Lester house over the next few days. Phil feels lighter than he has in ages. They haven’t talked about Dan or the forest again, but knowing that his mother knows the truth makes it easier to get through the days. Neither Pa nor Martyn know what’s going on but they can sense the shift. When they ask what’s going on, Ma just distracts them with food or kisses or talk, and they all move on.

On the morning of the rest day, four days before the Longest Night, they’ve all just sat down to eat breakfast when there’s a knock at the door. Phil is closest and, even though it’s early, he expects it’s Arthur because no one else ever visits, so he stands and walks over to pull the door wide open.

His mouth drops open and his eyes widen. “Dan?”

Phil looks him up and down and barely resists reaching out to test that he’s actually real. He looks the same as ever, except that his antlers are gone and there’s no hint they were ever there, and he doesn’t seem to be cold, despite the thin shirt he’s wearing.

“What are you doing here?”

Dan smiles but it highlights the dark circles under his eyes and Phil frowns in concern. 

“I came to see you,” Dan says. “May I come in?”

“I– I guess so.” Phil steps back and Dan enters the house, looking around with barely-concealed interest. 

When Dan’s gaze lands on his family, he smiles again. “Good morning. You must be Phil’s family.”

“Yes.” Phil steps forward and indicates each of them in turn. “My mother, my father and my brother Martyn. Everyone … this is Dan.”

Ma sucks in a breath but she disguises it by clearing her throat. Her gaze swings between Phil and Dan but she nods politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dan. Won’t you sit down? We’re just having some breakfast and there’s plenty for everyone.”

Dan takes the seat at the foot of the table, to Phil’s left, and Ma serves him a bowl of porridge studded with nuts and dried fruit.

“Thank you,” Dan says once he’s had a bite. “It’s delicious.”

They eat under a heavy silence, with Martyn trying to catch Phil’s eye and Ma glancing up at Dan every few seconds. Finally, Pa says, “So where are you from, Dan?”

“Outside the village,” Dan says easily. “I just came by to see Phil for the day. I hope he won’t be too busy. I know how much he enjoys helping you.” He directs the last part to Ma and she looks over at Phil, clearly wondering what exactly Phil has told Dan about them.

She returns her attention to Dan and shakes her head. “No, he’s free to do as he wants today.”

“Excellent.” He turns to Phil. “You can show me around the village.”

Phil arches an eyebrow. “It’s not that interesting.”

“You’ve told me so much about it, though. I’d love to see it for myself.”

Phil’s gaze slides over to Ma, because she’s the only other person at this table with any idea of the way his mind is whirring. She offers a slight shrug and Phil nods his head. “If that’s what you want.”

The meal continues with Dan asking Pa and Martyn about the furniture-making business they have, and Ma about the dresses she makes. Dan finishes his whole bowl of porridge as well as a slice of bread from the loaf Ma offers him, but Phil barely manages to nibble more than a spoonful of his breakfast. This whole situation is too strange to comprehend. Dan is  _ here _ , sitting in his kitchen, eating with his family and making conversation. Phil’s convinced it’s another one of his dreams until he discreetly pinches his leg under the table and has to swallow back the yelp of pain.

When they’ve all finished eating and the dishes have been collected, Phil jerks his head towards the door. “Shall we go?”

Dan nods and turns to Ma, who’s eyeing him warily. “Thank you for breakfast. It was lovely meeting you.”

Her face softens. “It was our pleasure. Make sure you look after Phil out there.”

Phil rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his chest. “Ma!”

“No, Phil.” Dan holds up a hand. “She’s worried about you. You’re lucky to have a family who cares so much.”

Phil isn’t sure if Dan’s just saying all this to win his mother over, but the last few days have proved that he’s lucky to have the mother he does, so he just grabs his coat from the peg by the door. 

“Come on.” He holds the door open while Dan shakes Pa’s hand and nods to Martyn, and then they both step outside.

Hearing the door thunk closed between him and his family makes the situation feel a bit more normal. Sure, he and Dan are standing out in the street in broad daylight, but at least it’s just the two of them again. When it’s just Dan, Phil doesn’t feel like he has to pretend to be someone else.

They set a slow pace into the village and Phil shoves his hands into his pockets to try to keep them warm.

“Where are your antlers?”

Dan erupts into laughter and Phil grins. “Is that really your first question?”

“You make it sound like they don’t stand out. I didn’t know you could make them disappear.”

There’s something fond about the way Dan shakes his head. “I  _ can’t _ make them disappear, not really. They’re still there, you just can’t see them. I thought it best not to draw too much attention to myself.”

Phil snorts. “You’re with me – people are going to notice you whether you want them to or not.”

Sure enough, the few people they cross paths with stop and stare. It makes Phil want to duck his head and fix his gaze on the ground, but Dan walks tall and proud, meeting the stares of anyone who doesn’t move on quickly enough. 

Phil walks Dan around the village centre, showing him the shops and pointing out where various people live, as if Dan cares or will ever need to know.

“It’s not as interesting here as it is in the forest,” Phil says apologetically, when Dan’s finished peeking through the window of Pa’s shop.

Dan frowns and brushes the dust off his hands. “It’s interesting to me. I’ve never spent much time in human settlements.”

“One of the cities or larger towns is what you should really go see,” Phil says. “They’re full of things to look at. There are jewellery shops, town halls, players that put on shows, and minstrels that sing songs. Here there’s … nothing. Just fields and farms.”

Dan shakes his head. “What’s the point of looking at jewels and listening to songs? I don’t want to see impressive things, Phil, I want to see what  _ your _ life looks like. Do you really think I care about anyone else here?”

Phil blushes and hopes Dan puts it down to the cold, but he can’t stop the smile that creeps across his face. “I guess I’m just not used to being the person someone wants to spend time with.”

It’s supposed to make Dan smile, but instead his mouth turns down and he bites his lip. “Do you have  _ any _ friends here?”

Phil starts to shake his head but then his face lights up. “Yes! Well, sort of. He doesn’t live here, he’s just visiting his aunt, but he’s a friend.”

Dan’s mouth twitches into something like a smile. “Can I meet him?”

“Of course! His name’s Arthur. Come on, his aunt’s house isn’t far.”

Phil’s so excited he could dance. He’s never had anyone to introduce as a friend before, and he’s never had anyone to introduce a friend to. They don’t make it all the way to Mrs Bennet’s house because they bump into Arthur a few houses down.

“I was just coming to see you,” Arthur says in greeting, “but I can see now that you’re busy.”

“This is Dan.” Phil shuffles his feet. “He’s a friend.”

“I’m just visiting,” Dan says. “Phil’s showing me around.”

Arthur nods slowly, glancing from one to the other. Phil wants to duck his head away because there’s something about the way Arthur’s watching them that makes Phil feel like he can see into his mind.

“I’m very happy to meet you, Dan,” Arthur eventually says. “It’s nice to meet another one of Phil’s friends.”

Dan nods. “Likewise. I hope you two will be friends for a very long time.”

Phil glances sharply at Dan, because there’s a weight to his words that Phil’s only just started noticing. He can’t say anything in front of Arthur and before he can usher Dan away, another door opens nearby and Hector steps out.

Phil heaves a sigh, Arthur’s lips purse and Dan raises an eyebrow, turning to see what’s shifted the mood.

Hector sneers. “Adding to the collection, Lester?”

Dan crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what collection you’re talking about but if I’m in it, I hope you’re not.”

It was probably too much to hope that Phil could show Dan around the village without running into Hector – that just seems to be the way Phil’s luck runs. Ordinarily, Hector’s appearance would make Phil turn around and go home, but now he can feel the annoyance building in him. Phil’s not doing anything wrong. He has as much right to stand here with his friends as Hector does, maybe more, because at least Phil minds his own business.

“You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves,” Hector says, “spending time with someone like him. We don’t like having people like him around here.”

“Why?” The word erupts from Phil before he can stop it. “Are you scared you might actually like me if I’m around too much? Sorry to tell you this, but you’re not my type. I’m only interested in people with brains.”

Hector flushes red. “What did you say?”

“I can say it slower for you if you like.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rise almost to his hairline and Dan smothers a laugh. 

“Just go, Hector.” Arthur smirks. “I think Phil’s had enough of you.”

Hector fixes a glare on Phil. “Watch yourself, Lester. You’re brave while these two are around but they won’t always be.”

Phil’s stomach flips as Hector walks away and he sort of wants to sit down right there in the middle of the path.

Arthur claps a hand down on Phil’s shoulder and squeezes. “Don’t worry about him, he just doesn’t like being shown up in front of other people.”

“I’ve never talked to him like that before. He’s going to be so angry.” Now that the fog has lifted, Phil’s starting to feel sick. What was he thinking? He’s spent the last four years trying to keep the peace and now he’s gone and egged Hector on.

Dan shrugs. “Let him be angry, but don’t back down, Phil. There’s nothing wrong with you, remember?”

Phil casts a glance at Arthur from the corner of his eye, because he’s just remembered that Arthur still doesn’t know why Hector has a problem with him, but Arthur doesn’t seem bothered or curious, only encouraging.

Dan looks up at the sky. “Sorry to cut this short, but I need to get going. It was nice meeting you, Arthur.”

“And you. Will I see you again?”

Dan grimaces. “Probably not. It’s a shame – I think we could have been friends.”

Arthur shrugs easily, says goodbye to them both and they turn their separate ways, with Phil leading Dan back towards his house. Dan seems to be walking even slower than before and the heavy silence between them is making Phil antsy, but he’s not sure how to break it. Finally, not too far from Phil’s house, Dan stops completely and turns to him.

“You can’t come into the forest anymore.” He blurts out the words like they’ve been building up in him this whole time.

Phil freezes. “What? Why?”

“It’s not safe. The queen knows about you and she told me to bring you to her the next time you visit.”

“But … can’t you just … not do that?”

“Not indefinitely. She’ll put my head on her wall for defying her and I don’t know what she’ll do to you. Kill you, if you’re lucky.”

“What about this?” Phil thrusts his left wrist, with the Gift peeking out from under his sleeve, between them. “I thought you said this would protect me.”

“I said it would protect you from direct harm. Do you think she doesn’t have other ways to make you suffer?”

Phil’s mind is spinning. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“You’re here now, though,” Phil says desperately. “You can come see me.”

“If the Sidhe notice I’m gone too often they’ll wonder where I am and they’ll follow me here.”

It’s the only thing that can stop Phil’s thoughts in their tracks. If the Sidhe follow Dan, they’ll find his family. Ma’s protected, but if they can get to Phil they can get to her too, and Pa and Martyn have no protection at all. They’ve spent years standing by him when the rest of the village would have cast him out; he can’t risk their safety just because Dan consumes his thoughts and steals into his dreams and makes him want to live a full and honest life.

“Make sure to keep wearing the Gift,” Dan says, because it must be obvious that he’s won. “And be careful who you trust.”

Phil nods and swallows hard. “I’ll miss you.”

Dan smiles. His eyes are wet but he blinks the tears away. “I’ll miss you, too.”

Neither of them say goodbye. Dan just turns and walks up the road, heading out towards the forest. For one brief moment, Phil is tempted to chase after him, cling onto his arm and tell him that he’ll follow Dan into the forest and take his chances. But that’s madness, so he lets Dan go.

*** * ***

One of the logs in the bonfire crackles and snaps. On the other side of the fire, a group of people laughs. Two young women flutter past with sprigs of holly wound into their hair, and the village candlemaker is handing out fresh candles to everyone from the basket on her arm. Everyone from the village has gathered in this field to celebrate the Longest Night, and there’s joy and laughter in the air. 

Phil wraps his coat tighter around himself and huddles closer to the warmth of the fire. The Longest Night has always been his favourite celebration of the year – as a child he loved being allowed to stay up to watch the sunrise, even if he usually ended up falling asleep long before that – but this year all he can think about is Dan walking away.

Arthur drops into the empty chair beside him and holds out a plate laden with food: roasted meat and winter vegetables, fresh bread, even a slice of fruit pudding. He’s got a matching plate for himself.

Phil takes the plate and picks at one of the potatoes with his fork.

Arthur sighs. “Is this about Dan?”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’m not blind. You were fine before he arrived and you’ve been moping ever since he left.”

“I haven’t been moping!”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you–”

“Nothing’s going on!”

Arthur levels an unimpressed stare at him. “I’m not stupid either. You couldn’t stop staring at each other. Every time one of you spoke, it was like everything else stopped existing. It would have been annoying if it wasn’t so sweet.”

There’s a roaring in Phil’s ears. “Wh– what are you talking about?”

Arthur smiles gently. “You know, in the capital there are men who live openly with other men, and women who do the same. There are some who think they’re unnatural, but for the most part they’re left alone to live their lives, just like everyone else.”

Phil’s chest is tight. A part of him is screaming to tell Arthur that he’s wrong, that Phil isn’t like that, but it’s small and easily stifled. The larger part of him doesn’t want to say anything at all. He’s not sure he has it in him to say it out loud to Arthur like he did to Dan, but he can’t bring himself to deny it either. He feels like he’s spent his whole life huddled in corners so that no one notices him. If no one notices him, they can’t look too close or say anything they might be thinking.

“Dan’s obviously special,” Arthur goes on. If he can tell that Phil’s having a crisis, he’s kind enough to let it go. “And you’re a good person. I would hate to think that you’re giving up on something that will make you happy just because the people here are too small-minded to understand that love doesn’t come with rules.”

The stillness comes over Phil all at once. Where before he’d felt like he was drowning, suddenly his whole world feels at peace. He can’t sit there anymore. Staying away from Dan is the smart thing to do, but that’s not what Phil wants, and he’s never had anything that he wanted before. He’s smothered himself to please everyone else in this village and so that his family won’t worry too much. He wants to breathe freely. He wants to be with Dan.

Phil shoves his plate into Arthur’s lap, where it almost ends up all over his shirt, and stands. “Will you tell Ma that I’ve gone for a walk? I’ll be back by morning.”

Arthur frowns. “What? Where are you going?”

Phil flaps a hand, already turning away. “She’ll know.”

He jogs out of the light cast by the bonfire and heads in the direction of the forest. He briefly considers going back to grab a candle to light the way but even in the dark the forest looms ahead, a patch of shadow darker than anything else around it.

He’s puffing clouds into the air by the time he reaches the edge of the forest and he stops to catch his breath. “I want to see Dan,” he says to the trees, praying that Dan hadn’t told them to keep him out.

Like last time, nothing moves for a long moment, and then the branches shift. Phil hurries up the path. There are tiny lights high in the trees that he’s never seen before, but maybe they’re only visible at night. They don’t do much to light the way so, as much as he wants to rush ahead, he forces himself to be careful and watch where he puts his feet.

The forest feels unnaturally still around him, though the branches and vines still reach out to pet at him as he passes. He doesn’t meet anyone and then, in what feels like a surprisingly short time, he steps around a tree and finds himself in the clearing outside Dan’s house. He knocks on the door and waits, blowing air into his palms to warm them, but no one comes to the door.

Phil frowns and looks around. He had asked the trees to bring him to Dan and they’ve led him here, so Dan must be around somewhere. He circles the edge of the clearing to make sure there isn’t a path leading out the other side, but the branches have formed a barricade. When his second knock also goes unanswered, Phil deflates. It hadn’t occurred to him that Dan might not be here – he’s always just been around before. The thought of going back to the village without seeing him makes Phil feel hollow. He already knows that in the morning he’ll see how nonsensical this is and he’ll convince himself to stay in the village, like the dutiful son he is.

Maybe Dan’s up in the workroom or on the balcony, and can’t hear Phil knocking. It’s the only thought Phil clings to as he feels over the door and his fingers trip into the catch that unlocks it. The door swings open with a creak and Phil pokes his head around before stepping inside and easing the door shut behind him. The main room is empty and there are no sounds from upstairs, but the rug on the floor is pulled back and the trapdoor is completely visible.

For the first time, Phil hesitates. Dan had never told him what was down there. It could still be some kind of cell or torture chamber. But Dan doesn’t seem the type to torture humans, and if he is, Phil would rather know about it now than get in any deeper than he already has. 

Phil grabs onto the handle of the trapdoor and heaves. The hinges catch and groan – whatever is down there, Dan clearly doesn’t use it often – but he manages to get the door open. Phil frowns down at the rough stone steps leading into a tunnel under the house. There are glowing amber lights set at regular intervals along the packed dirt walls but the tunnel extends too far for Phil to see what’s at the end of it.

“Dan?” he whispers, because there might be other things lurking down there, but there’s no reply.

He should just go home. He  _ knows _ he should. Going down into the tunnel will probably be the stupidest thing he’ll ever do, if he’s lucky enough to survive it to go on to do other stupid things. But he’s already come this far and he knows what’s waiting for him in the village. If he’s going to take his life in his hands, he’s going to fully commit to it.

The first step feels sturdy under his foot so he continues down, counting 20 steps to the bottom. The light from the still-open trapdoor is a reassuring beacon above him as he creeps through the tunnel. After a few minutes of walking, he hasn’t met anyone and there have been no side-tunnels to distract him, so the tension in his shoulders eases.

It feels like he walks forever. He has no idea where he is but he must be well under the forest by now, miles from the village, and he still hasn’t seen anyone or anything. Just when he’s starting to think he should just turn back after all, a light flickers ahead. Phil stops and holds his breath. If there’s someone coming there’s nowhere for him to hide and Phil doubts he could outrun one of the Sidhe. When the light doesn’t get any closer, Phil creeps on. As he gets closer, he starts hearing bells, strings and drums – music – and the muffled hum of what sounds like hundreds of voices. 

The tunnel ends abruptly in a long stone hallway. Phil peeks left and right, sees no one, and steps onto the smooth stone floor. There are flaming torches set in brackets along the walls and an enormous door at one end of the hall. The noise is coming from in there so Phil tiptoes closer until he’s right up against the door and then he nudges it open.

A wave of sound rolls over him. The music is loud but it’s still almost lost under the hundreds of voices laughing, talking and singing. The noise is nothing compared to the room itself. It’s huge, the ceiling soaring high above Phil’s head, but somehow there are evergreen branches fixed where the ceiling meets the walls, which are covered with murals depicting scenes that Phil doesn’t recognise. The floor is smooth and worn, but the intricate leaf pattern is still clearly visible, and the room is awash with light. It’s soft and warm, like the glow from a fire, but there’s so much of it that it feels like noon instead of the middle of the night.

The room is packed with Sidhe of all shapes and sizes. There are tiny men and women fluttering around on delicate wings, across the room there’s a giant hulking creature that must be at least four times Phil’s height, and there are men and women pushing through the crowd who stand only as high as Phil’s waist. Some of them have wings like birds or butterflies, some have horns, and a group of women nearby look like they’ve just crawled out of a lake.

Phil slips through the door and edges along the wall. Most of the Sidhe eye him with undisguised interest, but then their gaze drops to his left wrist, where his Gift is still hidden, and they grimace and turn away.

“Lost, dear?”

Phil jumps and turns to find an old hag following close behind him. She’s dressed in grey tatters and stooped so low Phil can barely see her face through the straggly hair falling around it.

“Oh, uh, no. I’m just looking for someone.”

“Maybe I can help you.” She reaches out to pluck at his sleeve but he tugs away.

“No thank you.” Phil turns and plunges into the crowd.

There are bodies pressing against him from all sides. It feels less like he’s walking and more like he’s being buffeted along by the movement of the masses. A face with an enormous bird’s beak peers at Phil as he passes, and he catches the eye of a spindly woman who looks like she has tree back for skin. Phil shudders when a hand drags down his spine but there’s no room to turn around to see where it came from. His chest is tightening and his breath is catching; the crowd seems to be closing in on him.

A large hand closes around his wrist and pulls Phil sideways. It happens so suddenly that Phil has no choice but to go where he’s led. He can’t even see who’s grabbed him. He takes a huge gasping breath when he’s spat out at the edge of the room.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Dan’s voice is hard but it’s a comfort in all the strangeness and Phil smiles when he looks into Dan’s face.

“Phil. Did you hear me?” Dan’s face is like a thundercloud. “You shouldn’t be here. Have you lost your mind?”

“I wanted to see you.”

Dan scoffs and shakes his head violently. “We can’t always have what we want.”

“I know that. I feel like I’ve spent my whole life not having what I want. I thought I didn’t care, but I do. I don’t want to never see you again.”

“That’s not–”

The bells and the strings stop suddenly. The drums take up a steady beat and the crowd falls silent. Dan draws in a sharp breath and shoves Phil behind him. 

“Be quiet and don’t move,” he breathes into Phil’s ear.

Phil shivers and nods, peeking over Dan’s shoulder towards the far end of the room. There must be a raised platform there because a woman steps forward and stands higher than everyone else. Phil can’t make out her face but she’s wearing the most extravagant red gown he’s ever seen. The way it catches the light and glitters makes him think there must be gemstones sewn into it. Her dark curls tumble around her shoulders and a delicate gold crown rests on her head. This must be the queen.

“My people.” She spreads her arms wide to encompass the crowd and smiles down at them. “I wish you joy and peace on the Longest Night.”

“Joy and peace,” the crowd intones in unison and Phil jumps.

The queen clasps her hands in front of her and looks across the crowd. Phil ducks his head and huddles closer to Dan – he smells earthy, like land after a downpour.

“The year has been long,” the queen says, “but in the morning the sun will rise and soon spring will come. In time, humans will return to the forest and our court will be rejuvenated.”

At this the Sidhe in the crowd start whispering amongst themselves. Dan’s back tenses and he takes a small step backwards to nudge Phil closer to the wall.

“Your loyalty has not gone unnoticed.” The queen’s voice is smooth and warm. “You will all be rewarded for your service. But that is for another day. Tonight we will dance and feast and welcome the sun!”

Everyone cheers and the musicians strike up a lively tune. The crowd sways as a space on the floor is cleared and groups of Sidhe take up a jig, whirling and spinning around each other so fast that Phil feels dizzy just watching them.

Dan grabs Phil’s elbow and urges him around the edge of the room. “Keep your head down and try not to look too conspicuous.”

Everyone seems to be occupied but it still feels like all eyes in the room are on them as they circle back to the door. Phil lets out a quiet sigh of relief when Dan pulls the door open just enough for them to slip back out to the still-empty hallway. Dan doesn’t seem to relax until they’re already well on their way through the tunnel back to Dan’s house.

“It’s good to see you,” Phil finally says when the silence becomes too much.

Dan lets out one of those reluctant, disbelieving chuckles and shakes his head. “I should have known you’d be back. You really don’t have any sense of self-preservation at all, do you?”

Phil shrugs. “Preserving myself didn’t seem worthwhile if I was going to be miserable with missing you.”

Dan glances at him, his mouth tight. “It’s only been a few days. It would have gotten easier with time.”

“Spoken like someone who has all the time in the world. This is me actually making a choice for myself for once. I’d have thought you’d be happy.”

“I’d be happier if you didn’t put yourself in unnecessary danger.”

Phil stops walking and folds his arms across his chest. “Who are you to tell me what’s necessary and what’s not?”

Dan turns to him and heaves a sigh. “You’re right. You can do whatever you like. I’m sorry. But you’re also right that I have all the time in the world, at least compared to you. I’m older than your parents and I’ll probably still be here long after you’re gone. Don’t act like you’re the only one of us who knows what it’s like to miss someone.”

Dan turns and continues walking, not waiting to see if Phil follows. Phil hurries to catch up. He didn’t come here for a fight and this is the first time that Phil’s ever wondered what Dan’s life was like before Phil stumbled into it. Dan has always been so content in the forest that Phil has just assumed that he’s happy here, but maybe that’s not true. Maybe he had friends who are gone now. Maybe he’s lonely.

“Why do you stay here?” Phil asks. “In the forest, I mean. Are you bound here or something?”

Dan studies his face, maybe wondering where all the fight has gone, but then he shakes his head. “No. I can leave. I just never saw much reason to. I like the trees and I have my house. Besides, where would I go? I couldn’t live in a city for very long, so I’d have to find another forest and that all seems like a lot of effort.”

“Do you have any friends here?”

“I have you.”

Phil blushes and tries to push down his grin but he’s not very successful, judging by the smirk on Dan’s face. He casts around for something else to talk about.

“Do you know a Sidhe named Regin?” Phil asks.

Dan turns to him sharply. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Ma.” Phil grabs Dan’s arm and jiggles it with excitement. “She knew him! Like I know you! Regin tried to lure her in with a token but then–”

“He let her go.”

Phil nods. “That’s right. Turns out she’s known about the Sidhe this whole time – that’s how she knows so much. He even gave her a Gift! She still wears it.”

Dan’s mouth has dropped open but he closes it slowly. “I knew Regin. We crossed paths in the forest sometimes, but we weren’t really friends.”

“‘Knew?’”

Dan’s lips purse and he tries to shrug, nonchalant. “The queen found out that Regin had let a girl – your mother – go. She punished him so that no one else would think to do the same.”

Phil swallows hard. He’s afraid to ask but something in him has to know. “What did she do to him?”

Dan’s gaze is focussed on the middle distance, like he’s seeing it all again. “She plucked out his feathers, one by one, and had his wings broken, and then she him strung up in the Great Hall for everyone to see. She had the feathers sewn into a dress. She liked to wear it to dinners, maybe so he could watch her eat and drink in them, while he starved and knew he would never get to fly again. One day he was gone but we all know he died up there on that wall.”

Phil’s stomach churns and his eyes prick with tears. He can never tell Ma what happened to Regin, not without breaking her heart. But hearing what Regin went through just because he set her free makes him eye Dan carefully.

“If that’s what happened to Regin, why did you decide to let me go? Weren’t you worried the queen would hurt you?”

Dan’s mouth twists. “The queen and I have a … complicated relationship, but I’m not in the habit of just giving her what she wants. And who knows? Maybe my sense of self-preservation isn’t so great either.”

They’ve reached the stone steps leading back up to Dan’s house. Phil follows Dan back through the trapdoor and Dan closes it gently. After he’s pulled the rug back into place, Dan points to the ceiling.

“Now that you’re already here, do you want to see the balcony?”

Phil’s eyes widen – he’s been half-expecting Dan to kick him out, or at least take him straight back to the edge of the forest – and he nods eagerly.

The corner of Dan’s mouth twitches into a smile and he leads the way up the stairs. The bedroom looks the same as Phil remembers from his last visit, but the workroom has new blocks of wood stacked on the bench. Dan seems to be carving a series of deer figurines from them but he doesn’t get time to look closer before Dan is starting up the next set of stairs. It curves around the inner wall of the trunk like the others but seems to go on for much longer. Phil’s done a lot of walking since he left the village and his calves are starting to ache. Thankfully, just as he’s tempted to ask Dan how much higher they have to climb, the stairs open onto a wide balcony, high in the canopy.

Phil gasps. The trees around them are lit by delicate pinpricks of light. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was standing in the sky, looking out at the stars, but the leaves rustle and a branch from a neighbouring tree reaches out to poke at his shoulder.

“What are those lights?” Phil’s voice is hushed – he’s not sure why, there’s no one around to hear them, but being here in the dark with Dan makes him want to tread softly.

“Fireflies maybe? I’ve never gotten close enough to see one.” Dan’s fingers tap gently on the balustrade circling the balcony. “They appear every year on the Longest Night, from sunset to sunrise. They’ll be gone tomorrow night.”

“They’re beautiful. Your whole house is beautiful. I wish my house had a balcony.”

“What would you look at from your balcony?”

Phil shrugs. “I don’t know. We don’t have much of a view, but I’d sit out there all the time. Maybe I’d be a man of leisure.”

Dan chuckles and tilts his head. “Would you?”

“Yes, and you could visit me every day, and bring me berries, and shade me from the sun in the afternoon.”

Dan laughs and Phil grins so wide his cheeks hurt. He feels silly and light like he hasn’t in years. He never wants to leave this forest or this house or Dan, doesn’t want to go back to the village where people pretend he doesn’t exist, or sneer at him when they can’t avoid him.

His smile drops slowly from his face. “I wouldn’t need a balcony at home if I just stayed here with you.”

The fireflies don’t give off much light so Dan’s mostly in shadow, but Phil’s close enough to see Dan’s shoulders slump and the laughter die from his face.

“You know you can’t stay here. Coming back is one thing but staying? It’s like you have a death wish.”

“Being in the village doesn’t feel much like living. I think it sucks the life out of me a little more every day.”

Dan bites his lip and looks away. “You don’t have to stay there. You could leave. Go somewhere no one knows you. Start a new life.”

“I couldn’t leave my family. And what about you? I already miss you every day just being in the village. If I left I’d never get to see you again. Unless …”

Dan raises an eyebrow. “Unless what?”

“Unless you came with me? You said yourself that there’s nothing to keep you here.”

The silence stretches out between them for so long that Phil’s stomach starts churning. His cheeks are burning. Why won’t one of the trees snatch him up and carry him away? Not forever, just long enough for Dan to forget this conversation ever happened.

“Sorry!” Phil bursts out, when he can’t stand it anymore. “That was a stupid thing to say. Let’s just pretend I never said anything. Let’s go back downstairs and–”

“Phil.” Dan’s hand is warm on Phil’s forearm. “It wasn’t stupid. Actually it was sweet. You’re very kind.”

“But?”

Dan sighs. “Do you know how slowly the Sidhe age? When you’re old I’m going to look exactly the same as I do now. We can go somewhere else and for a while it won’t matter, but eventually we’ll have to leave again. And what are you going to do when the age difference is too obvious? Hide inside with me? Move out to a cottage in the middle of nowhere where there’s no one else around?”

“You make that sound like a bad thing. You’re my favourite person. I want to be with you all the time.”

Dan shakes his head but he’s hesitant, like he’s trying to convince himself more than Phil. Phil’s not dumb. He knows taking Dan away from the forest will pose challenges and that his life will have to change. He just doesn’t care about that right now. He’s spent his whole life being so careful; now he wants to be reckless.

Before he can let himself think about what he’s doing, Phil closes the distance between them and mashes his mouth to Dan’s. It’s clumsy and unpracticed, and Dan lets out a muffled, startled sound, but he cradles Phil’s jaw in his hands when Phil goes to pull away, and draws him closer, and the tension in Phil’s shoulders eases.

It’s nothing like kissing Hector’s brother when he was 14. There’s none of the nervous excitement he’d felt then, because kissing Dan feels like something he’s been doing his whole life and in all his other lives before. He’s warm and solid and there’s a hint of berry on his tongue that Phil wants to spend hours chasing after.

When Dan draws back he stays close, their noses separated by a space so small only a breeze could pass through it. Dan’s gaze is fixed on his, unblinking; Phil’s holding his breath.

“I wish I could be human with you,” Dan whispers.

Phil’s heart jolts but he nuzzles the tips of their noses together. Dan laughs and a smile blooms on Phil’s face.

Dan looks out at the forest, biting his lip, and then studies Phil’s face. “Travelling during winter will make things unnecessarily difficult. We should wait for spring.”

Phil’s so light he could float away and he can’t stop the grin spreading across his face. He kisses Dan again.

*** * ***

The remaining months of winter pass slowly. A few days after the Longest Night, Phil wakes up to a blanket of snow over the village, and the lack of work they can do only adds to the restless itching under his skin. He knows that he should savour these quiet days with his family, but now that he and Dan have a plan all he can think about is leaving the village behind. It doesn’t help that Dan is enforcing the limited contact rule – it’s still not safe for them to spend too much time together, so they agree to a time and place once a week. They stay close to the edge of the forest so Phil can leave quickly if he needs to, but they spend hours there talking and making plans for where they’ll go and what they’ll do. There’s a lot of kissing too – an activity that Phil has always liked in theory but likes even more now that he gets to kiss Dan in particular – but he would be happy to exist in Dan’s company even if he never got to touch him again.

To fill the time when he’s not helping Ma, Phil visits Arthur.

“You’ll have to write to me when I’m back home,” Arthur says in the last week of winter. They’re standing on Mrs Bennet’s doorstep, saying goodbye before Phil returns home for the evening. “Tell me about all the goings-on in the village.”

Phil shakes his head. The idea that anything in this village will ever be different is laughable. “Maybe I won’t be here to talk about it. Maybe you’re not the only one who’s leaving soon.”

Arthur arches an eyebrow. This is the first time Phil has mentioned leaving the village to anybody. Spring is right around the corner and he knows he has to tell his family soon, but testing the water with Arthur can’t hurt.

“Really? I don’t suppose Dan will be joining you?”

Phil shrugs, coy, and tries to muffle a smile. “Maybe.”

Arthur chuckles. “So many maybes. Well, when you and maybe-Dan end up somewhere else, write to me. The maybe-two of you can come visit.”

“I’d like that.” Phil glances up at the sky. The light is fading and there are clouds moving in. “I’d better head home. See you tomorrow.”

Arthur waves goodbye and closes the door as Phil sets off down the street, pulling his coat tighter around himself. The bitter cold of winter has died away but the air is still brisk. He’s not far out of the village centre when heavy steps fall in behind him.

“Going somewhere, Lester?”

Phil takes a calming breath. He’s not going to let Hector get to him, not now, when he’s so close to leaving him behind for good.

“Home.”

“Not for long, though. I heard you’ve got plans to leave us. You think people aren’t going to figure out what you are wherever you go?”

Home is just a corner away but Phil stops and turns to face him. “Let them. I don’t care.”

Hector steps close and stares right into Phil’s eyes. “You’ll be miserable and alone for the rest of your life.”

“At least I won’t be as angry and as filled with hate as you. You’re small-minded and weak, and you still bully people like we’re children. Grow up, Hector. It was your father who sent your brother away – blame him, not me. Or are you too scared?”

Hector shoves his hands into Phil’s chest and Phil stumbles backwards, arms windmilling to keep his balance. Hector advances and Phil turns to run before he even knows he’s thought about it. He’s not a fighter and Hector is broader and stronger than him. It’s never been physical between them before, but Phil doesn’t doubt that Hector would be happy to change that. So he runs and doesn’t stop even when he reaches his house, because he’s leaving soon and the last thing he wants is for his last days with his family to be ruined by Hector.

He heads straight for the forest, never slowing down because he can hear Hector’s boots pounding behind him. He doesn’t have time to ask the trees to take him to Dan, so he weaves between the trunks looking for somewhere to hide. If he can just stay out of Hector’s sight long enough, Hector will get bored and go home – or get lost in the forest forever, that would be fine with Phil – and then Phil can ask the trees to take him to Dan or back to the edge of the forest.

His breathing is laboured and heavy, his legs ache and he has to slow down to catch his breath. Hector is still close behind, cursing at the branches, and Phil stumbles over a tree root. He steadies himself on a nearby trunk and then sees a flash of silver behind one of the trees.

“Psst!” The ruddy, coarse face peeking out at him is only as high as Phil’s hips. The nose is large and pointed, like the ears that stick out from the side of his head. The Sidhe waves a hand towards him. “Over here.”

Phil hesitates but jumps when Hector’s voice reaches him loud and clear – he’s close behind.

“Come on!” the Sidhe says. “He’ll catch you!”

One of the branches near Phil is tugging at his sleeve; another has tucked into his belt. But Phil tears away from them and hurries towards the Sidhe, who he can see now is wearing what looks to be a red uniform, the same colour as the dress the queen wore for the Longest Night. There’s a sword attached to his hip, which makes Phil pull up short, but it’s too late. The ground beneath him gives way and Phil falls.

*** * ***

Kath’s fingers are red where she’s wrung them together. 

“Maybe he ate at the Bennet house,” Nigel says, mopping up the last of his soup with a crust of bread. “He’s over there all the time these days.”

Kath shakes her head. “He’s always home for dinner and he would have sent word if he wasn’t going to be.”

Phil was supposed to be home an hour ago. He always makes sure to be back when he says he will because he knows how she worries. Nigel always tells her that she has to try to worry less, but how is she supposed to do that, with the way people in the village treat him? And then there’s the Sidhe, which she’s always worried about before but has to worry about more now that Phil’s been going into the forest. She loves Nigel and Martyn with every breath in her body, but she envies them too. What must it be like to walk through the world with only human concerns? She was barely more than a girl when she met Regin; she can barely remember what life was like before she knew about the creatures in the forest.

But none of that matters now. Something is wrong. Maybe it’s mother’s instinct but she can feel it in her bones.

She pushes herself up from the table and grabs a coat to wrap around herself. “I’m going to go see Arthur. Maybe he’ll know where Phil’s got off to.”

“Kath–”

“No, Nigel. This isn’t like him. I need to know where he is.”

Martyn starts to stand. “Let me go. It’s cold out and it’s started raining.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s not far. I won’t be long.”

She steps out of the house before they can try to stop her and pulls the hood of her coat up over her head. The rain isn’t too heavy yet but the density of the clouds tells her that it will be soon. She hurries up the path towards the village centre. There’s no one else around, but all the windows are edged with flickering lamplight around the curtains. Kath huddles deeper into her coat and walks faster.

Her knock on the Bennet door is probably too insistent to be polite but it gets results because Arthur opens the door just a minute later.

“Good evening, Kath.” His smile is friendly but unsure. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m looking for Phil. Is he here?”

Arthur frowns and he looks up and down the street like he expects Phil to just pop out of the ground. “He left almost two hours ago. He said he was going home.”

The panic is rising up her throat but she forces it into a shaky exhalation. “I see.”

He tries to take her elbow to draw her inside. “Why don’t you come in? I’ll go out and look for him.”

She shakes her head so violently that her hood almost flies off. “No, thank you. There’s one more place I need to try.”

His lips purse like he’s going to disagree with her but eventually he steps away. “Alright, but let me know if you still can’t find him.”

“I will.” She turns away before he’s even had a chance to say goodbye, and starts hurrying back up the street towards the outskirts of the village. 

He’s probably with Dan, she thinks over and over again as she splashes through the muddy puddles. He probably went to see Dan and lost track of time. He’s always been the kind to get lost in his own head. That’s all this is.

Her feet slip on the wet grass as she crosses the fields; she only slows when the forest trees are towering over her. She grips Regin’s Gift so hard that she can feel the edges digging into her palm and stops at the border of trees.

There’s nothing to indicate that Phil has been here recently and no trail to follow, and even if there was she knows walking into the forest is too dangerous to attempt on her own.

She leans closer to the trees. “I need to speak to Dan. Please, can you bring him to me? I’m Phil’s mother – he’s missing.”

The trees are still, the only sound the rain falling heavy on her hood. For one long, breathless moment she thinks coming here was useless, but then a nearby branch creaks, reaches out and strokes her hand gently. It’s strangely comforting. These trees know Phil; it even feels like they love him. Her shaky breathing starts to calm.

She doesn’t know how long she waits but finally Dan appears in a gap between two trunks. He frowns slightly – he’s obviously surprised to see her – but her heart sinks when she sees that he’s alone.

“Mrs Lester.” He lingers in the shelter of the trees. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for Phil. He never arrived home this evening. I hoped he might be with you.”

“No,” Dan says slowly. “I haven’t seen him in a few days.” 

There’s no wind but the leaves rustle violently and Dan stares up at them. He swallows hard and turns back to her. His face is pale even in the gloom.

“The trees say he was here earlier. Another man was following him.”

“Hector.” Kath doesn’t hate anyone but if she did, she would hate Hector. He’s tormented Phil for years and encouraged the rest of the village to shun him, when Phil’s never been anything but kind to any of them.

Dan nods. “Probably. Go home and try not to worry. I’ll look for him.”

Kath nods reluctantly. He can’t take her into the forest – she would just slow him down, and he can go where she can’t. “You’ll let me know … whatever happens?”

It physically pains her to ask. The thought that Phil might be alone in the forest with the Sidhe makes her chest tight, but if something has happened to him she wants to know. She’ll never be able to sleep again if Phil just disappears off the face of the earth.

“Of course. I won’t stop looking until I find him, I promise.”

Her eyes widen. The Sidhe can’t lie and they take promises seriously. That Dan has given her his word on this, when Phil should just be another human to him, tells her more about Dan than Phil ever has.

“Thank you.” She backs away from the trees slowly. “Good luck.”

He fades away into the darkness so quickly and quietly it’s like he was never there at all, but the determination in his words lingers warm in her chest. So Kath turns and heads back across the field towards home.

* * *

This is bad, Dan thinks as he hurries between the trees, which keep whispering to him about how Phil and Hector had come tearing through the forest, and been lured into a trap by a goblin in the royal guard, and fallen into a pit left there purely to capture unwary humans.

He wants to tell them all to be quiet so he can think but he knows they mean well, so he just tries to block them out as best he can.

Phil will be somewhere in the court by now. He has to find him. And he needs a plan.

*** * ***

Phil’s head is throbbing and the ground under him is hard and cold. He groans and blinks open his eyes. At first all he can see is a lot of grey and a red blur. When the room finally comes into focus, he gasps and pushes himself upright. The room spins and he gasps again, clutching his head to try to steady the dizziness.

The woman watching him through the bars of the cell he’s in is the same woman he saw on the Longest Night – the queen, though she’s not wearing a crown now and her red dress is less elaborate. She’s even more beautiful up close. Phil’s never seen skin as smooth or hair as thick as hers.

“I’ve heard a great deal about you,” she says with a smile that’s at odds with the cold of her voice. “Phil, is it?”

He says nothing. He doesn’t want to encourage her. She obviously already knows who he is and what he’s been doing in the forest. There’s no point playing her game.

Her smile curls deeper into her cheek. “Maybe you can tell me about your friend?” 

Phil follows the hand she waves to her right and inhales sharply when he sees Hector flung on the ground of the cell next to his. Phil can’t see his face but he doesn’t seem to be conscious.

“He’s not my friend,” he says, because it’s true and because maybe she’ll be less inclined to hurt Hector if she thinks Phil won’t care.

She arches a delicate eyebrow. “He followed you into the forest.”

Phil shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. “I said he’s not my friend, not that I don’t know him.”

She hums thoughtfully. “An answer worthy of the Sidhe. All the time you’ve spent with my son has rubbed off on you.”

“Your son?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“That’s right. My son, Dan.” Her eyes widen in feigned surprise and she puts a hand to her chest. “Did he not tell you?”

Phil purses his lips tight. Honestly, he’s not surprised that Dan kept his royal blood to himself now that he’s met the queen. She hardly seems like a mother to be proud of.

She sighs, a soft, happy sound. “What fun it will be to have you here.”

“You can’t hurt me!” Phil holds up his wrist almost desperately, where Dan’s Gift still sits, keeping him safe and sound.

The queen scoffs. “Not directly, but there are many other ways. And when I tire of those, you will starve, just like the rest of them.”

She turns and strides away in a rustle of skirts. At the end of the room, a heavy door clunks shut behind her.

Phil presses his face into his hands, but he pulls them away when his fingers brush a tender bump near his temple. This is bad. He’s in the heart of the Sidhe court, no one knows where he is, Ma is probably worried sick and Hector is all he’s got for company.

He glances over at Hector’s still form and crawls across his cell until he’s as close to Hector as he can get. Hector isn’t the ideal person to be trapped here with, but he’s better than nothing.

Phil grabs a few small stones from the floor of his cell and lobs them through the bars towards Hector. Most of them miss because Phil’s never had the best hand-eye coordination, but a couple bounce off Hector’s head. When Hector doesn’t stir, Phil sighs and slumps against the back wall. Through the gloom he can just see Hector’s chest rising slow and steady so at least he’s not dead.

Hector does wake up eventually but Phil doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there in the dark and quiet. It might have been an hour, it might have been two – there’s no way to tell and they’ve been alone since the queen left.

Hector groans and sits up, holding a hand to his head. He looks around, takes in the bars of the cell and then spots Phil. He doesn’t seem surprised to see him, but he does still look a bit dazed.

“Where are we?” It’s the most polite thing Hector has said to him in years. Too bad it took getting captured by the Sidhe to make it happen.

“We’re in the forest,” Phil says, because there’s no reason to lie about anything at this point. “Or under it, I guess.”

Hector’s brow furrows. “‘Under it’?”

Phil nods. “That’s right. We’re in the Sidhe court, the dungeon probably.”

Hector’s frown deepens. “What’s a Sidhe?”

Phil shrugs, not quite sure how to describe a whole population of so many species. “I suppose they’re … nature spirits? Or fairies? Except some of them aren’t very nice. Actually, most of them aren’t very nice from what I’ve seen. I’ve only met one nice one in all the times I’ve come here.”

Hector is silent but gradually his brow eases and he chuckles. “Faeries? I see. You’re trying to spook me into leaving you alone.” 

He staggers to his feet and tries to rattle the bars of his cell but they hold steady. He calls down towards the door that the queen had disappeared through but no one answers. Eventually, he spins to glare at Phil.

“Let me out.”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Don’t you think I would if I could? I don’t want to be stuck down here any more than you do.”

“We’re not stuck. This is a joke. You can’t keep me here!”

“I’m  _ not _ keeping you here, the queen is.”

“There is no queen!”

“There is!”

“There isn’t!”

“Quiet!” The door bangs open and a short Sidhe, like the one that had tempted Phil in the forest earlier, comes stomping down to them. He pokes Hector back from the bars with the tip of his sword and glares at both of them. “I don’t want to put up with your wailing until the queen gets bored with you.”

Hector’s mouth has dropped open but he gathers himself enough to speak just as the Sidhe is leaving. “Let me out!”

“Quiet!” the Sidhe says again and slams the door shut behind him.

A ringing silence lingers until Phil shrugs and says, “I told you.”

Hector whirls back to face him. “This is all your fault!” At least his voice is hushed to keep the Sidhe from coming back.

Phil’s eyebrows rise. “How?”

“You led me here!”

“No, you followed me! What was I supposed to do, just stand around and let you pummel me? If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours. None of this would have happened if you’d just left me alone!”

“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t touched my brother!”

Phil’s shoulders drop as the fight goes out of him. “That was years ago. You can’t hold it against me forever.”

“I can when my father refuses to let my brother come home because he can’t deal with the shame.”

Phil shakes his head. “If your father is ashamed it’s because of something in him, not anything your brother or I did.”

Hector crosses his arms over his chest and looks around the cell as he maintains a stubborn silence. Finally he turns back to Phil. “How do we get out of here?”

Phil shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“You’re the one who knows about these Sidhe.”

“But I don’t make a habit of getting thrown into dungeons, and that seems to be the most immediate problem.”

“So what are we supposed to do? Just sit here forever?”

Phil muffles an impatient sigh. “They’ll kill us long before ‘forever’ arrives, but maybe if we work together we’ll figure out a way to escape.”

Hector grimaces. The idea of working with Phil is clearly distasteful but he doesn’t have much choice. Before they can say anything else, the door bangs open again and the same Sidhe enters, this time with a troop of five similar creatures at his back. He unlocks both cells and then jerks his head at them.

“Out!”

Hector draws himself up. “Why?”

The Sidhe glowers. “No questions.”

Another of the Sidhe jabs him in the back of his knees with a sword and Hector stumbles into movement. Phil, seeing the glare of the Sidhe at the entrance of his cell, moves out to join Hector.

The Sidhe form a circle around them: two in front, two behind, one to Hector’s left and the other to Phil’s right. Hector glances at Phil and raises an eyebrow but Phil subtly shakes his head. They have no idea where they are or what’s waiting for them outside the dungeon; trying to run now won’t do them any good. But if they’re being taken out now, chances are good that they’ll be taken out again. Better to wait and get a read on the situation than risk it and potentially end up worse off.

Hector grumbles but apparently down here he’s willing to follow Phil’s lead because when the Sidhe nudge them forward, he walks without complaint.

The Sidhe escort them out of the dungeon and through a series of long hallways that all look the same as far as Phil can tell, but he tries hard to concentrate on the route they take. The walls are all grey stone with flaming torches in brackets, the same as the one Phil saw on the Longest Night, but today there are Sidhe roaming the halls. Hunched old women lugging buckets of water, little men balancing brooms, and tall, ethereal men and women all turn to stare as Phil and Hector are led past.

Finally, they round a corner and Phil’s stomach jumps. He knows this place. The enormous door ahead opens to the room Phil entered on the Longest Night, which means one of the side corridors behind them will take them straight to Dan’s house. If they can just get away, they can make a run for it.

But when the doors open the room is nothing like it was before. The floor has been taken up with eight long wooden tables, four at the bottom of the room and four at the top, and every seat is full. A long walkway leads from the door to the head of the room, where a smaller table on a raised platform looks out over the crowd. Seated in the centre of this table is the queen, resplendent in a new red dress and a glimmering crown of gold. Dan is seated at her right.

Phil’s heart stops. What is Dan doing here? And why is he sitting with her?

The hall is completely silent as they walk towards the queen; their footsteps seem to thunder around them. Every Sidhe watches as they pass, some curious and some eager, but there are a couple that look concerned. Phil holds onto that.

Phil and Hector are stopped at the edge of the raised platform. Their Sidhe escorts fan out and bow deeply to the queen before scattering to take their places along the wall. Phil tries to catch Dan’s eye, but his face is cold and he keeps his gaze fixed on the back of the room.

The queen gestures to the two empty chairs at the table, one on her left and the other on Dan’s right. “Please, sit.”

Phil and Hector exchange a glance but do as she says. When Phil makes to sit beside Dan, the queen tsks.

“No, Phil, you sit beside me.”

It was too much to hope that he and Dan would be able to talk, so he moves towards his seat with only minimal reluctance. It’s only when Phil rounds the table to take his seat that he realises there’s someone else sitting at the table … or  _ on _ the table, technically.

Trina, seated cross-legged beside the queen’s crystal goblet, smiles sweetly up at him and wiggles her fingers in a wave. There’s a tiny plate in front of her and an equally tiny cup of what looks like water.

Phil sits to the queen’s left and stares out at the Sidhe gathered in the room. He jumps when the queen speaks.

“Tonight is a special occasion. As you can see, we have guests. My son has done what none of you could and lured not one, but two humans into our midst. His loyalty should be an example to all of you.”

Phil swallows hard and forces himself not to look at Dan. She must be wrong. He and Dan have spent too much time together for all of it to have been a trick … except that it was Dan himself who told him that the Sidhe like to play with humans before trapping them. What if this whole thing between them has just been a game?

“Tonight we celebrate. Let us feast.” She raises a single finger and an inconspicuous door opens on one side of the room. Through it stream a line of short, spindly Sidhe wearing rags, but their size is no indication of their strength because each of them easily carries a heavy platter, bowl or jug laden with food and drink. These are distributed to all the tables and then the creatures disappear back through the door. The crowd is still until the queen spears several slices of meat from a nearby platter and then the rest of the Sidhe begin to help themselves.

Both the queen and Dan fill their plates, though Dan sticks to vegetables, fruits and nuts, and Trina eats freely from a bowl of seeds presented specifically to her. Phil’s stomach rumbles and his mouth waters at the smells wafting towards him but he doesn’t reach for his cutlery.

“You’re not eating?” the queen asks Phil. She tears a piece of meat off the chunk on her fork with her teeth. “I thought you would be hungry after everything you’ve been through.”

“I don’t eat food prepared by the Sidhe. It’s not safe for humans.” He makes sure his voice is loud enough to carry down the table to Hector.

“What about these berries? You like these, don’t you?” She nudges a bowl of berries towards him. 

Phil’s stomach lurches when he sees they’re the same berries that he and Dan had eaten during his second visit to the forest, the same berries that had provided the stones for his Gift.

But he shakes his head. “I’d rather not risk it.”

The queen’s eyes narrow. “If you  _ don’t _ eat, you  _ won’t _ eat.”

Phil clasps his hands together in his lap. “Then I won’t eat.”

She shrugs like she doesn’t care – she probably doesn’t – and returns to her food. “Very well.”

Maybe it’s just Phil’s empty stomach, but the meal seems to go on forever. Most of the platters on the lower tables get picked clean, but there’s still an almost obscene amount of food left on the queen’s table. Even if Phil and Hector had eaten there would be too much left over. The queen just waves her hand and the spindly Sidhe return to take the platters away. Hopefully the leftover food won’t go to waste. Phil’s lived through his share of bad crop years; he can’t bear the thought of all that good food just being thrown away.

The queen stands and their Sidhe escort returns to the table to collect them, but when Hector moves to follow Phil back off the platform, the queen raises her hand.

“Not you,” she says to Hector and meets Phil’s gaze in challenge. “You and I can have a little fun, I think, and you can thank your friend for that. It’s very rude to snub my hospitality when I’ve put on such a feast for you both.”

The way Dan stiffens tells Phil that whatever the queen has planned for Hector, it won’t be “fun” for him.

Phil tries to step towards them but staggers back when one of the Sidhe jabs him in the stomach with his sword. “He doesn’t have anything to do with this. If you’re going to punish someone you should take me instead.”

The queen smiles. “I think leaving you in the dungeon with your imagination is the perfect punishment for someone like you.”

Hector’s face is pale but he doesn’t resist when another troop of Sidhe gather to escort him out a side door. Like Phil, he probably realises that whatever happens next will be worse for him if he tries to resist, especially in a room full of Sidhe.

Phil’s stomach is churning as he’s taken back to the dungeon. It’s a combination of hunger and worry for Hector. Phil might not like him, but that doesn’t mean he wants him at the mercy of the Sidhe queen. She could be doing anything to him, and all because Phil refused to eat what she provided. He knows he made the right choice, but this at least  _ is _ Phil’s fault.

The Sidhe push him back into this cell and lock the door behind him, then leave him alone in the dungeon. It seems darker and lonelier without Hector for company, and he slides down the back wall and wraps his arms around his knees to wait for him. It might be hours before the queen’s through with him but Phil doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep while he waits.

The time passes slowly. There are no windows in the dungeon – they’d be useless even if there were – and there’s no way to tell the time. The time just seems to stretch into infinite darkness. His mind keeps trying to turn to Dan, but Phil forces all those thoughts away. He can’t think about Dan and how he might have tricked him right now, not if he wants to hang onto any hope at all.

Just as Phil’s eyelids are starting to droop and his head is beginning to nod, the door of the dungeon opens. Phil startles upright, shocked out of tiredness, and steadies himself against the wall as he stands. He must have been sitting there longer than he thought by the way his legs tingle painfully as the blood rushes back through them.

Phil expects Hector to be returning but the silhouette in the doorway is clearly Dan’s. Phil will know those curls and antlers until the day he dies.

Dan strides to the door of Phil’s cell like he owns the place. Being the son of the queen, maybe he does. One of the other Sidhe trots to keep up with Dan’s long-legged stride.

“Open it,” Dan says, nodding at the door to Phil’s cell.

The Sidhe shakes his head, mouth set. “I only open them on the queen’s orders.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Do you think I don’t know that? She wants to see him and she wasn’t going to walk all the way down here herself when she could just send me.”

The Sidhe wavers, eyeing Dan up and down.

“Do you really want me to have to tell the queen why it took so long to get this one back to her?” Dan asks. “You know how she gets and she won’t be happy if she knows you held me up.”

The Sidhe grumbles and throws up his hands. “Fine, but if something goes wrong, I’m blaming you and not even your royal blood will save you.”

“Don’t I know it?” Dan mumbles and steps back while the Sidhe unlocks Phil’s cell.

The door swings open and Phil hesitates, glancing from Dan to the Sidhe and back again.

“Come on.” Dan waves him out of the cell. “She’ll be happier if we don’t keep her waiting.”

Phil steps to Dan’s side because what he’s saying is true: the longer the queen has to wait, the unhappier she’ll be. Phil isn’t expecting her to be lenient, but he’d rather not anger her more than he needs to.

“We will escort you to her,” the Sidhe says.

Dan shakes his head. “That won’t be necessary.”

“We are to accompany the humans everywhere.”

“Are you questioning me?” Dan’s face is hard and there’s a thunder in his voice that Phil’s never heard before that has him leaning away.

Even the Sidhe shuffles back, glowering. “Go then. But if anything happens to him, on your head be it.”

Dan heads out of the dungeon as if this isn’t even worth a response. Phil hurries to catch up because the Sidhe is glaring at him and stroking the hilt of his sword in a truly alarming way. 

He stays one pace behind Dan but he’s still close enough to hear Dan whisper out of the corner of his mouth, “Try to look scared.”

“I  _ am _ scared,” Phil whispers back, trying to dry his sweaty palms on his shirt. “What’s the queen going to do to me?”

Dan stumbles but rights himself quickly enough that the pixie fluttering past probably doesn’t notice. “What are you talking about? I’m not actually going to take you to her! This is a rescue, but I couldn’t tell the goblins that, could I?”

“But how did you lie to them?”

“I didn’t.”

“You did. You said that the queen wants to see me.”

“She does.” Dan smirks. “But I didn’t say she wants to see you today.”

Phil frowns. “So … you didn’t lure me into the forest to hand me over to the queen?”

“Of course not! Haven’t we been over this?” Dan’s steps falter and he glances over his shoulder at Phil. “Did you really think I’d do that just because you saw me with her? After all this time?”

Dan’s voice is soft and hurt, and it does sound stupid now that he’s not locked in a cell, but Phil shrugs. “What was I supposed to think? You never told me that you’re a prince either.”

“I’m not really. I never see or talk to her, and she’s not much of a mother. I was raised by three bean-tighe – Sidhe nursemaids. My favourite was named Mirella because she was the only Sidhe worth trusting. She used to sneak me little gifts in acorns. It was our secret. Anyway, power is something the Sidhe know how to take. The queen took it from her predecessor and her successor will take it from her. I just mind my own business and stay out of it.”

They turn down a hallway that Phil doesn’t recognise. It’s deserted and doesn’t look like it’s used much. The torches that are still lit flutter weakly and the wall coverings are dusty. Phil comes to an abrupt halt and Dan turns impatiently.

“We don’t have time to stand around admiring the scenery, Phil.”

“We can’t leave – she still has Hector.”

“What?” Dan’s voice is pitched high, incredulous. “Why do you care about him? You know if your situations were reversed he’d leave you down here to rot!”

Phil shakes his head. “Probably, but I’m not him. I don’t like him and he’s awful but he doesn’t deserve to be left alone down here with the queen. Imagine what she’ll do to him once she finds out you and I are gone.”

Dan’s sigh is so big his whole body slumps with it and he throws up his hands. “Fine! We’ll rescue him too. But you’ll probably have to do the dirty work while I distract her.”

Dan turns and leads him back down the hall to a side door that opens into a narrow passage even more grimy than the hall they just left. 

“We’ll have to be quick,” Dan says as they jog through a winding series of passages. “She’s had him for hours – she’ll probably get bored soon, if she isn’t already, and she’ll send him back to the dungeon.”

Finally Dan holds up a hand to stop him when they reach another door. He swallows nervously and glances at Phil. “We haven’t thought this through,” he says, his voice so low his words are carried on a breath. “If she separates us you’ll never find your way out on your own.”

“We have to try, Dan. I’ll never be able to live with myself if we run away and leave him here.”

Dan licks his bottom lip and then nods reluctantly. “When you get him out, bring him back down this passage to the main hall. Take the third door on the left and then look for a tunnel like the one from my house. It’ll probably be dark but it’ll lead you out to the forest. The trees will help you from there.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll find you if I can, but if I don’t I want you to leave the village and get as far away from here as possible.”

“ _ If _ ?!”

Dan shushes him. “None of this is guaranteed. Just get Hector and get out. Let me handle the rest. Promise me you’ll leave.”

Phil wants to protest some more, but they don’t have time to stand around arguing. “I promise.”

Dan cracks the door open to peek out and then steps into the hall, waving Phil through quickly. It’s another long hall with high ceilings, but much more well-kept than the one they were in before. The torch brackets are glittering gold and there are richly-coloured coverings depicting the queen hanging on the walls. The stone floor is so clean it looks like it’s never been walked on.

Dan leads him to a wide double-door on one side of the hall and ushers him off to the side. “This is her … entertainment room,” Dan whispers. “There’s a room adjoined so I’ll try to get her in there. Once the coast is clear, grab Hector.”

Phil jerks a nod, swallowing to wet his suddenly dry mouth. He stands well back as Dan straightens his shoulders, knocks and then nudges the door open to poke his head around.

“Well isn’t this a surprise?” The queen’s voice floats out merrily. “I didn’t think you had the stomach for this sort of thing.”

Dan shrugs and steps inside, leaving the door ajar so Phil can peek in and hear them talking.

“I was curious and given that I’m the one who got the humans here, I wanted to see what you plan to do with them.”

She chuckles and Phil shivers at how deep and dark it is. “All sorts of things but I like to start slow.”

“So these things over here…” Dan’s voice gets harder to hear as he moves away from the door. “You won’t be using these for a while?”

“No. They’re for when I’m done showing them off to the court.” The queen’s skirts rustle and her voice fades as she follows Dan away.

Phil takes a deep breath and pushes the door open just enough that he can check the room is empty and slide through. As soon as he’s inside he knows he’s never going to forget this moment. The room is packed with what can only be called torture devices: hooks hanging from the ceiling, racks with wrist and ankle restraints, tables with tools neatly lined up.

For a minute he’s so overwhelmed that he can’t see Hector at all, but then he finds him slumped in a chair beside a table of tools. Dan and the queen can still be heard faintly through an archway in the left wall but no one’s around to see Phil tiptoe across the room to Hector’s side as quickly as he can.

Hector’s right cheek is swollen and he doesn’t seem to be fully conscious, but he groans softly and his eyelids flutter open when Phil shakes him. His wrists and ankles are secured to the chair with silver chains and heavy padlocks that Phil has no hope of breaking. He casts his gaze around, trying to be methodical through the panic rising in him with each passing second, and sees a matching silver key on a nearby table. He lunges for it and overturns a small bowl that he fumbles to grab before it can roll onto the floor, but he’s not quick enough to stop the contents tumbling out. Phil stifles a gag when he sees the two molars, still bloody at the roots, rolling to a stop on the floor. 

He’s going to be having nightmares about this for the rest of his life, he thinks as he tries to fit the key into the locks with shaking hands. A part of him isn’t even surprised when he sees that all the fingers on Hector’s left hand are mangled and broken. The queen laughs just as Phil gets the last lock undone and heaves Hector out of the chair. He’s barely more than dead weight but he manages to get his feet under him and prop himself on Phil’s shoulder as they shuffle back towards the door.

Maybe it’s Phil’s imagination but the queen sounded closer than before. He’s holding his breath as he pulls Hector out into the hall and closes the door quietly behind them. Then he has to drag him into the passage. It’s slow going even though Phil tries to keep them moving as quickly as possible. The queen might have already found Hector gone. The goblins might be flooding the halls in search of them at that very moment. He’s determined not to think about what will happen to Dan if the queen suspects he played a part in their escape.

Phil is breathing hard with the effort of lugging Hector by the time they make it back to the abandoned hall. Phil peeks out the door and can’t see anyone but there are shouting voices and running feet in the distance. The queen must know they’re gone.

He gets a firmer grip around Hector’s waist and sets out into the hall, but there he falters. Which door had Dan said it was? The third? The fourth? Was it the left or right? He wavers, knowing he has to pick one now before it’s too late but then a small round face peeks out from behind the third door on the right. She looks like the kindest grandmother Phil has ever seen, with deep dimples and hair like dandelion fluff.

She waves him towards her but he shakes his head. Following a strange Sidhe was how he and Hector ended up in this mess.

“I know the way,” she croaks. “Dan was leading you to the forest.”

Despite his better judgement, he moves towards her because if she knows Dan, that’s a good start.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Mirella. I looked after Dan when he was a boy.”

She can’t lie but Phil wants to be safe, even as he can feel his time running out. “You used to sneak things to him. What were they hidden in?”

“Acorns.” Her eyes crinkle when she smiles.

Phil’s so relieved he could cry as he and Hector follow her through the door. At least Hector’s regained some awareness and is able to hold most of his own weight, even if he needs to steady himself on Phil’s shoulder.

Mirella leads them down the hall, her steps as light as a bird’s, and stops beside a round tunnel opening. They can’t see very far but it has rough dirt walls and there’s a cold breeze blowing out at them.

“Follow the path all the way to the end and you’ll be in the forest,” she says.

“I’ve got nothing to repay your kindness,” Phil says.

She waves his words away. “You have made my Dan very happy. That is more than I have given you. Go now, before someone comes.”

Phil and Hector step into the tunnel and don’t walk for more than a minute before the light from the hall fades completely, leaving them in the dark. They each place a hand on the wall beside them to guide the way and each slow, careful step takes them closer to the forest until finally a weak light appears ahead of them. The ground slopes gently up and, when they poke their heads out through the hole, they’re between the roots of a giant tree. Phil goes first and then helps Hector out. They’re not really safe until they’re out of the forest, but he can breathe a little easier now.

“Where are we?” Hector rasps, the first words he’s spoken since Phil got him out of the queen’s rooms.

Phil shrugs and turns to the trees nearby, which are already stroking him in a gentle, anxious way. “Can you take us to the edge of the forest, please?”

There’s the pause, which Phil has come to think of the trees thinking and talking amongst themselves, and then the branches shift to create a path.

“Thank you,” he says to them and ushers Hector ahead. “Just follow the path. Hopefully we’re not too far away.”

It turns out they must have exited the court quite close to the edge of the forest after all, because it’s a much shorter walk than the one Phil usually takes to Dan’s house. When they emerge from the trees, the sun is almost directly overhead, visible only in flashes between the clouds. It’s almost noon – they’ve been gone almost a full day. His family must be worried sick, and who knows what Hector’s family thinks?

The village is visible in the distance across the fields and Phil starts trudging towards it before he’s even thought about moving. Now that home is so close he’s so tired his bones feel heavy. All he wants is a bath and some food and then sleep. And hopefully when he wakes up Dan will be there. Better yet, this will all have been a terrible dream.

“Thank you,” Hector says, voice low, before Phil’s taken more than a few steps.

Phil startles to a halt and turns to him in disbelief. “Pardon?”

Hector cradles his broken hand against his chest and doesn’t meet his gaze. “Thank you. I know you took a risk getting me out.”

“Oh.” Phil tries to shrug it away. “You’re welcome.”

Hector nods and that’s the end of it.

*** * ***

It takes Phil’s mother about four days to stop crying every time she sees him. He understands that she’s relieved nothing happened to him in the forest, but whenever she gets teary he’s hit with a flash of guilt that he put her through all that in the first place.

At least the crying and the guilt are distractions from the fact that Dan still hasn’t appeared. Phil desperately doesn’t want to think about what this means because he knows the queen isn’t stupid, and she’s definitely not going to believe that Dan innocently stopped by just as both her prisoners escaped. He has nightmares not about what he went through, but about the story Dan told him about Regin, only instead of Regin being strung up, starved and tortured, it’s Dan.

They tell Martyn and Pa that Phil and Hector had gone into the forest and gotten lost, that Hector had fallen and injured himself, but that they’d luckily found their way out. Pa seems to believe the story, or at least wants to believe it enough that he doesn’t ask questions, but Martyn watches Phil with questions in his eyes when he thinks Phil isn’t paying attention. Every night before bed Martyn opens his mouth to speak but says nothing when Phil turns his back on him and pulls his blankets over his head.

As much as he would wait forever for Dan, Phil knows he can’t stay in the village. Not only had Dan made him promise to leave, but Phil had passed Hector’s father in the village centre and almost cowered away from his angry eyes. Hector’s father has never really liked him, for obvious reasons, but it’s different now. Phil doesn’t know what Hector told his family about what happened to them, but his father clearly blames Phil for his son’s injuries. Phil  _ doesn’t _ cower, though. He meets Hector’s father’s gaze head on and walks tall, because he didn’t escape the Sidhe court half-carrying Hector on his back to be scared of these villagers now.

Phil makes plans to leave the village with Arthur, who’s heading home now that winter is over. They’ll travel together as far as Arthur’s city, where Phil will stay for a couple of days, and then he’ll move on. He doesn’t know where yet – he and Dan had talked vaguely of heading south in search of nicer weather, but they hadn’t figured out the details.

They leave the village on a cool spring morning, about a week after Phil and Hector stumbled out of the forest. Ma cries again, but Pa claps him on the shoulder and Martyn hugs him tight. No one else is there to see them off. Phil pulls himself up onto the horse Pa had bought for him and then they leave with a wave. The road takes them past the forest and Phil can’t help scanning the treeline but there’s nothing and no one to see. He calls out a silent goodbye to the trees and likes to think the leaves wave a little goodbye.

It takes a week to get to Arthur’s home and by the end of it, Phil’s muscles are aching and stiff. He’s not used to long journeys, especially on horseback, so he’s more than happy to be welcomed into Arthur’s house, where he soaks in baths and sleeps in a soft bed. But he only stays for a few days before he says his goodbyes and promises to write as soon as he’s settled somewhere.

Phil wanders south through the spring, stopping here and there to do odd jobs in exchange for money, food or shelter. Eventually he comes to what looks to be an abandoned cottage not far from a lake and a copse of trees. There’s a town nearby so he heads to the inn there to ask about who the cottage belongs to.

“No one anymore,” the innkeeper’s wife says. “One of the local fishermen used to live there, but he passed away about a year ago and the cottage has been empty ever since. He didn’t have any family here so I’m sure no one will mind if you move in, but you’ll have to pay for or make any repairs yourself.”

So Phil moves into the cottage. It’s smaller than the house he grew up in, but big enough for him. There’s a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen and living area, which he sets up with a table, some comfy chairs and a workbench. The repairs take a bit of work: there are holes in the roof that need patching, there’s a bird nesting in the rafters and the garden is completely overgrown, but he gets there, one thing at a time, until finally the house feels like a home.

He heads into town almost every day and makes some friends, including the old tailor, who’s more than happy to hand off some of the more intricate work to Phil and his young eyes and steady hands.

He adopts an orphaned puppy and names it Thunder, which makes everyone laugh because it’s a big name for a dog that only grows to about 12 inches tall.

A year passes in this slow, quiet way until his life in the village and his months in the forest almost feel like a dream, except that Phil still wears Dan’s Gift around his wrist and hears his laugh in his sleep.

One afternoon towards the end of summer, Phil’s sewing beads onto the neckline of a dress for the innkeeper’s daughter. It’s going to be her wedding dress and the innkeeper’s family has been good to him since he moved into the cottage, so he takes particular care with it.

He wipes a drop of sweat from his brow, thinking wistfully that if he can just get this beading done he and Thunder can go for a swim in the lake to cool off. He’s concentrating so hard that he almost falls out of his chair when there’s a knock at the door.

It must be someone from town because Thunder doesn’t bark like he does at strangers. Instead, he lies in the doorway to the bedroom with his head on his paws and watches Phil place the dress and beads carefully on the workbench before opening the door.

Phil freezes. His breath stops. His eyes widen. And then a second later his heart starts hammering in his chest.

“Dan?”

“Hello, Phil.”

It  _ is _ Dan, just standing there on the front step as if he’s been there a hundred times before. He’s exactly the same as he was when Phil last saw him, from his antlers, to his brown curls, all the way down his long legs to his toes, except that the curve of his smile is more hesitant and his eyes are less bright.

Phil doesn’t know what to say. He stopped imagining that Dan would find him months ago. As much as he wanted to hope, after a while it just started making him sad. 

“… How did you find me?” Phil finally asks.

“It wasn’t easy. It took me months to get away from the Sidhe and out of the forest. When I did, I went to the village and asked your mother. She pointed me here but it still took me a while to actually get here. It was a long walk.”

Phil’s mouth drops open. “You walked all that way?”

Dan blushes and shrugs, small and embarrassed. “I said I would try to find you.” Dan bites his lip and his gaze skitters away. “But I can go if you want me to. It looks like you’re all set up here with a nice little house and a dog. If there’s no room for me then I’ll just–”

Phil reaches out and grabs Dan by the elbow, pulling him close. “There’s always room for you with me. I’m so glad you found me. I hope we find each other in every life.”

The smile that blooms on Dan’s face is wide and sweet. Phil wants to sweep him up in his arms and never let him go again. He pulls Dan inside and closes the door.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to share this fic around, please [reblog](https://andthenshesaid-write.tumblr.com/post/186579760434/a-human-heart-andthenshesaid-write).


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